Earth: The Final Battlefield
by GirlyGeek
Summary: The Plutarkians have exterminated all Martian females as well as destroyed Mars, but the Martian males managed to escape. Crash landing on Earth, they as well as the entire human race are at war with the Plutarkians for their survval. AU! Cannons x OCs.
1. Chapter 1

Hello everyone, and welcome to my newest BMFM fic :) I don't know how long this one is going to be, so hopefully it'll be a fun ride for all of us, lol. I hope that you enjoy it! I'm not sure exactly _where_ I got the idea for this fic, but I've long since stopped trying to understand my Muse, lol. In any case, enjoy!

******MorbidCrow:** As always, my dearest friend, thank you so much for letting me bounce ideas off of you. You rock!

**Song for this fic:** 'Princes of the Universe' by Queen.

Now for the boring stufff...

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the cannon characters that you will find in this story, nor do I own anything else pertaining to Biker Mice from Mars. I also don't own the character of Duncan who belongs to fellow FF/net member, and my very dear friend, MorbidCrow. However, all other OCs belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

* * *

_"Here we are, born to be kings.  
We're the princes of the universe.  
Here we belong, fighting to survive  
in a world with the darkest powers…"_  
_  
-'Princes of the Universe' by Queen_

_…Los Angeles; Van Wham quarters; present-day, post-apocalypse…_

Vincent Van Wham still could not believe it had happened.

Yet now, in the underground caverns that served as the living quarters for all members of the Los Angeles faction of the Resistance, Vinnie could hardly do anything _but _believe that it had happened. As he wrapped his strong, sculpted arms around his wife Charley and protectively held her against his equally strong and sculpted body as she slept, Vinnie was reminded of just how real it all was.

It had been five years since all Hell had broken loose in the universe…

More to the point, on Mars and Earth.

After a long and hard war that had lasted for many years, the Martian mice had finally lost the battle for their home planet.

In what they had hoped would be the final killing blow to the Martians, the Plutarkians had captured and exterminated all of the Martian females. It did not matter if they were children or elderly and on Death's door…

_Every_ single Martian female had been killed.

_Exterminated_.

Even now, five years later, the thought of it made Vinnie's blood run cold in his veins, and he tightened his arms around Charley as though afraid that she would suddenly be ripped from his life. What had happened on Mars was an atrocity that Vinnie had never thought he would ever experience in his lifetime, and even now, the memory of all the screams haunted him.

But it had not ended there.

To add insult to injury, the Plutarkians then forced the remaining Martian males to mine the ruined remains of their own planet. As though the looming reality of being the last of their kind was not disheartening enough for the remaining Martians, but the Plutarkians were perfectly content to watch their surviving prisoners of war die from exhaustion as they mined their own beloved planet into oblivion—not even bothering to bury the bodies of the dead.

The Plutarkians had counted on the Martian males to completely lose hope and simply fall over and die.

And many _had_.

The Plutarkians had _not_ expected the remaining Martian males to band together, steal a ship and escape the remains of the destroyed planet.

The first response of the Plutarkians had been to simply let the Martians go. After all, with no females, how would they rebuild their numbers? They would simply die out and fade from the memory of the galaxy, just like their once beloved planet. However, in the end, the Plutarkians had decided to err on the side of pure, unadulterated viciousness and pursue the Martian males relentlessly across the known galaxy.

It had been a long and arduous pursuit that Vinnie remembered only too well.

The Martians had tried to outrun their pursuers, and their efforts had been quite valiant. They had had no clear destination in mind. They had simply wanted to find a place to hide and grieve their tragic losses while figuring out their next move. But in the end, the ship they had stolen was no match for the Plutarkian battle cruiser that pursued them. It had been a battered, Martian cruiser that had long since seen better days. The navigation computer was broken beyond repair and kept them from jumping galaxies, and despite the constant teamwork that had been undertaken by the Martians to repair the rest of the ship along the way, in the end, their ship had taken too much damage from their more heavily-armed pursuers and were forced to crash-land on Earth.

Vinnie, Throttle and Modo had told the pilot to direct the crash-landing as close to Chicago as possible since they had been there before and knew of places where they could hide. The Martian mice had crashed just outside of Chicago and had barely managed to ride out of the wreckage before the Plutarkians had descended upon them with guns blazing.

And thus the war for Earth had begun.

Deciding to pick up where they had previously left off on Earth, except now on a much grander scale, the Plutarians had launched a full-scale attack upon the lush planet. The renegade Martians were now the least of their concerns since they were faced with the acquisition of all that Earth had to offer.

But Earthlings had never been ones to go quietly into the night.

Muslims, Christians, Pagans and Jews…heterosexuals and homosexuals…people of every skin color and creed…they had all risen above their differences and banded together to form one unified front against those who would destroy them all. They also had not refused the help of the displaced Martian mice—rather welcoming their advanced technology.

Unfortunately, Chicago and most of Illinois had been laid to waste.

Vincent's arms tightened around Charley yet again and he buried his face deep into her hair at the memory of that. He had come so close to losing her—having just barely rescued her before the Last Chance Garage was completely razed to the ground. Vinnie had fought tooth and nail to save Charley. He had steadfastly refused to accept the possibility of losing her.

Not _her_…

Charley was _his_ female, and Vincent had refused to lose her in the same way that Throttle had lost Carbine. So he had done everything in his power to save her—barely getting out by the skin of their teeth. He had gotten several battle scars in the process, but that did not matter to the white Martian.

Charley was safe and alive.

_That_ was all that mattered to Vincent.

Vinnie could still remember how he held Charley that night—cradling her in his arms and rocking her back and forth as she cried into his chest and grieved the loss of what had been her last remaining connection to her departed father. As he held her, Vinnie had never once stopped murmuring comforting words into her ear. He never once stopped telling her that he loved her, and that he would never let anything bad happen to her.

And for five years, Vinnie had made good on that promise.

Charley had stayed with their unit after that—joining them as they were transferred to different cities and states over the past five years. Their unit consisted of Stoker, Throttle, Modo, Vincent and Rimfire, and like with the human Armed Forces, they were sent wherever they were needed. However, it was not until the transfer to Los Angeles that Charley and Vinnie became husband and wife.

Married…

Vincent never thought he was the marrying kind, but he knew that he would never trade any of his four years of being married to Charley for anything. They had been the first inter-species couple to marry, and once it had been discovered through lab experimentation that Martians and humans were indeed able to procreate with each other, they had not been the last.

Martian after Martian had found a mate and followed suit—Modo and Stoker included.

It had not been difficult for the Martian males to find willing Earthling females to bond with them. After all, despite the fact that they were a different species, they were still easy on the eyes, and they all had strong, muscular bodies that would put Mr. Universe to shame.

And from what Vinnie had heard from snippets of female gossip he had managed to catch, he and his fellow Martians were much more endowed than human males.

Vinnie could not help but grin and chuckle softly at that. But he did not feel the need to prove the rumors right.

No…

Those days were long gone, and as Vinnie deeply breathed in the scent of the woman he had chosen as his mate, he could not have been happier with that reality. As Vinnie slowly traced a finger gently along the graceful curve of his wife's jaw, he knew that he could never love another female in the way he loved her. Charley was his everything. She was the love of his life…

And when the war was over, she would be the mother of his children.

Children…

Vincent Van Wham never once thought that he would ever be a father. He liked children of course…mainly because they reminded him of himself, but he never thought that he would ever want any of his own. But he did now…

He _had_ to.

For the sake of his dying race, he and countless other males who never thought they were the paternal sort now had to embrace the instinct that had run away from for so long. But so long as he had Charley by his side, Vinnie knew that he could handle the challenges of fatherhood when the time came.

But before that day came, first they had to win the war.

Vinnie sighed heavily at that, and as he closed his eyes and attempted to catch a few hours sleep in his wife's comforting presence before he would have to be back on duty, he wondered if the elusive day of victory would ever come...

* * *

_…Laboratory…_

It had been like something straight out of a science-fiction movie...

Alien ships landing on Earth and beginning a war to overtake the planet…it had been broadcasted on every news channel around the globe, and for a split second, Sydney had honestly believed that she had been sucked into an H.G. Wells novel.

_War of the Worlds_…

The novel that she had so often read throughout twenty-four of her thirty-four years of life was actually becoming a reality.

A lover of all things science from the moment she was old enough to know what it was, Sydney had always toyed with the possibility that the human race was not alone in the universe. In something as vast as the universe was, how could they be alone? But, despite these thoughts and beliefs, Sydney never once believed that something like this would happen.

But it _had_.

Many had been the morning that the lithe brunette had awakened within the underground tunnels beneath Boston that acted as the shelter and base for that branch of the Resistance—expecting it all to have simply been a surreal dream. She expected to find herself in the bedroom of her apartment, or even at her desk after having fallen asleep in mid-calculation, as was her normal pattern. But instead, she would awaken to find herself either in the cavern that served as her quarters, or in the fabricated, underground chamber that served as her laboratory.

Having received her Doctorate in genetic engineering as well as bio-chemistry, Sydney had been one of the top minds in her chosen fields in her home town of Boston, and she had worked relentlessly in her efforts to help the Resistance on the scientific front against their oppressors. Then, a year into the invasion, she had been transferred to Los Angeles in order to head up the science division there, and she had not once hesitated before diving right into her research.

Sydney had spear-headed the research project involving the creation of different poisons and neurotoxins to be used against the Plutarkians. But while her research had yielded _some_ results, it was nowhere _near_ what she wanted it to be. She had used Plutarkian cadavers as her test subjects—examining their blood and 'attacking' it under a microscope with various toxins and poisons, many of which had been combinations of more than one.

Of course, not _all_ of her research involved concoctions of death.

A great deal of her research also involved the creation of antidotes and vaccinations against the poisons used against the Resistance by the Plutarkians.

And _that_ was how she met Stoker.

Four years ago, the veteran fighter had been rushed into her lab along with several other humans and Martians alike who had been exposed to a Plutarkian toxin. However, because it had been a strain of poison that Sydney had not yet come across, time had been of the essence, and she had to race against the clock in her efforts to stall and eventually stop the effects of the toxin.

And throughout all of that high stress panic, it had been Stoker who had remained calm out of all the infected.

Not once had Stoker screamed at her to hurry; rather, he instead reprimanded the other infected and firmly ordered them to be quiet. That had provided Sydney with the necessary quiet she had needed in order to examine the toxin once she had slowed its progression within the infected. All the while she had worked, Stoker had been by her side—providing even in his weakened state, the extraterrestrial knowledge that Sydney needed in order to crack the toxin's molecular makeup. Not once did Stoker lose his sense of calm. Even in the face of his possible demise, he had remained level-headed, and that had moved Sydney to no end. A scientist to her core, Sydney had always been ruled by logic and rarely allowed herself to become unglued. So it was no surprise that she instantly felt so drawn to one who could be so calm in the face of his own death, and she could still remember how her heart had fluttered like a hummingbird in her chest when Stoker had smiled at her while she administered the antidote to him—telling her softly in a firm yet strained voice of how he knew that she could do it.

They became lovers after that.

The fact that Stoker was fifteen years older than she was did not matter to her in the slightest, just as it did not matter to him.

In times such as these, age was an irrelevant number.

They were the second inter-species couple, and it was in the early stages of their relationship (a month to be exact)that Sydney had begun experimenting with the possibility of procreation between the species. After having undergone a procedure to extract some eggs from her ovaries, she had convinced Stoker to make a 'donation' of his own. It had started out as a 'pet project'—something she worked on in her 'down time'. She had half-expected it not to work…

But it _had_.

Sydney had fertilized her eggs with Stoker's sperm, and she had watched in awe as the two cells from two completely different species had merged into one and create a completely new life. All three eggs that she had used had been successfully fertilized and only needed to be implanted within her in order to continue growing.

There was hope for the Martians after all!

In her excitement, she had called Stoker and told him to get to her lab as soon as possible, and after his arrival, Sydney had watched in silence as silent tears rolled down her lover's cheeks as he peered into the microscope and gazed at the future of his people growing within the Petri dish. But more importantly, Stoker saw _his _children growing within the Petri dish…

_Their_ children.

He was a father now…

And Sydney was the mother of his children.

Moments after the connection had been made in his mind, Stoker asked Sydney to marry him—saying that he wanted to give his children a last name unlike his own father. Despite having only been together for a month, Sydney accepted, and within an hour of having cryogenically frozen her fertilized eggs, she and Stoker were married.

The next day, Sydney had presented her findings to the Commander of the Los Angeles branch of the Resistance, and she had immediately been drafted to create a contraceptive that would be issued to all females who were contemplating relationships with Martians. After all, if evidence of hybrid babies reached the ears of the Plutarkian horde, then they would no doubt systematically hunt down and kill human females as they had done with the Martian females, and all hope for both races would be lost.

This of course also meant that inter-species couples could _not_ engage in traditional sexual intercourse until the contraceptive was created. It was an order that was broadcasted immediately after Sydney had delivered her report, and while it did _not_ rule out _other_ forms of sexual activity, it still put the pressure on Sydney to come up with something fast.

However, creating the contraceptive was not so easy.

Martian sperm, as it turned out, was stronger and hardier than human sperm and was thereby completely resistant to condoms laced with spermicide. Not only that, but through experimentation, Sydney soon learned that Martian sperm was also capable of living much longer than human sperm as it searched for an egg. Then there was the fact that no prescription of the Pill was 100% fool proof. Neither were other methods of female contraception. All that was needed was one faulty contraceptive or one carelessly miscalculated ovulation schedule, and the fate of two races would be doomed.

So the creation of a contraceptive had been made into Sydney's top priority—leaving the continuing creation of toxins and anti-toxins in the hands of the rest of her team. But at length, Sydney had managed to find the perfect combination of hormones and chemicals, and formed them into a serum that was to be administered every six months.

That was three years ago, and so far the contraceptive had worked flawlessly. There had been no pregnancies amongst the inter-species couples, and therefore no reason for panic. Sydney herself had been taking it for the three years of her marriage.

But that did not stop her from visiting her babies…

Just like she was right now—with her hand pressed against the thick, circular window of the heavy, metal door that kept her fertilized eggs frozen and viable. She dared not take them out of their cold chamber…not until she was ready to receive them within her, but she still checked on them from time to time. She felt ridiculous at times—her logical brain telling her it was foolish to become so attached to something not yet growing inside of her. But her heart already recognized the fertilized eggs as her and Stoker's future children, and that it was only a matter of time before they _were_ in fact growing inside of her.

"Hello, babies," she whispered softly with the smallest of smiles.

And that was how Stoker found her.

"Thought I'd find you here when you weren't home after I got out of my meeting," Stoker said with a soft chuckle as he strode into the lab—his metal tail swishing slowly behind him. At fifty, he was considered to old to be out on the field, so he had been given the role of battle strategist—coming up with different approaches for the militia and infantry to use on the battlefield. "Babe, what're you doing?" he asked as he closed the distance between his wife and himself before wrapping his strong arms around her waist from behind and resting his head against hers. "You need to rest that sexy brain of yours…how else are you gonna kick ass on a genetic level?" he asked with a grin.

Stoker loved Sydney…more than he had ever loved any other female…more than he ever thought he _could_ love a female.

In his life, Stoker had 'loved' many women, but he had never been in love with any of them. He had never actually 'made love' before either. It had always simply been sex, and Stoker had been perfectly content with that way of life. He was content to remain a bachelor for the rest of his life…

But then the great tragedy had occurred.

The end of his species and their way of life had been staring Stoker hard in the face, and the veteran soldier found himself reflecting on his past and questioning his cavalier lifestyle. True, it had been fun and Stoker had enjoyed himself immensely. But where had it all left him?

Middle-aged and without any progeny.

Stoker had come face to face with the selfish emptiness of his life, and he had cursed it. For almost two years, he had cursed the shallowness of his existence and grieved for the life he had never known and would never know.

And then he met Sydney.

While their initial meeting was far from ideal, Stoker could not deny his attraction to her. She had a quiet strength that had impressed him from the first moment he had met her. Amidst all the screaming and panic of the infected as they felt their lives drifting away from them, Sydney had never once lost her calm. Rather, she had risen above the din that would have unnerved even the most experienced field medic, and found an antidote to the strange toxin while keeping its harmful effects at bay.

Hers was a silent war, but it was a war nonetheless and Sydney was determined to be the victor. All the work she had done for the cause without any sense of bravado was more than worthy of Stoker's respect and admiration, and he could not help _but_ fall in love with her.

How could he not?

Sydney was both beauty _and_ brains wrapped inside one lovely package—everything that Stoker always _knew _he wanted, but had never allowed himself to have. But that was no longer the case. Things were different now, and Stoker finally opened himself to falling in love with a real woman instead of just a piece of tail. Sydney was the one for him, and Stoker knew from their very first date that he _had_ to have her—that he _had _to make her his.

And so he had, and three years later, Stoker could not have been happier.

"Do you think this war will ever be over?" Sydney asked softly as she leaned back into her husband's strong body and rested her free arm over his.

Stoker sighed softly and followed Sydney's gaze before shifting to rest a hand over the one his wife had pressed against the window. "I hope so, Syd," he murmured softly into his wife's ear as he shifted his other arm just enough to press that hand against Sydney's flat abdomen. "I want our babies to be born just as much as you do." He lightly nuzzled his wife's ear. "I can already see you pregnant in my head, and let me tell you…it's one of the most _beautiful_ sights I've ever seen."

Sydney smiled softly and leaned into her husband's nuzzling. "I love you, Stoker," she murmured softly.

Stoker moved both his arms to wrap tightly around Sydney as he held her close. "And I love you with all my heart, Sydney."

And he meant every word.

* * *

_…Maverick quarters…_

Modo silently slipped into his quarters and quietly closed the door behind him before resisting the urge to groan as he stretched his back. Though it had been a long and hard duty shift, he still refused to awaken his wife. The gentle giant smiled softly as he peered through the inky blackness while undressing—easily making out his wife's slender frame as she slept peacefully.

Emily…

With her golden hair, sweet smile and doe eyes, she looked just like an angel.

And she _was_.

As a nurse, Emily was an angel to _many_. Her kind smile and gentle hands were exactly what those brought into the infirmary needed—whether it be what they woke up to, or whether it be the last bit of goodness they experienced before leaving this world. Emily's job had her coming and going at all hours of the day and night. It did not matter if she had just gotten off her shift or not, if the hospital needed extra hands, then she was called in for as along as she was needed.

And that was why Modo always took great pains not to awaken her when he saw that she was asleep.

Dressed only now in his boxers, the gentle giant chuckled inwardly as he tip-toed over to the bed—imagining how he must look. Gazing down at his beloved, he still could not believe that he had found her…and that she had chosen him. Already bearing scars and evidence of his warrior's life, Modo bore even more of them when the time for the inter-species mixer came.

Inter-species mixer…

Essentially a group blind date, it was designed for the Martian males to find mates in willing human females. It had been made into a required event at every Resistance base around the world once it had been proven that procreation between humans and Martians was possible. Even so, Modo had originally not wanted to attend. First of all, because it was mandated that _all_ single and unattached women of a heterosexual nature between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five were mandated to attend, Modo was afraid that the females he would meet would be less than friendly. Secondly, _because_ the females were being forced to attend, Modo was afraid that they would focus their attentions on the males that did not appear so war-ridden. Thirdly…Modo was still mourning the loss of his mother, sister and niece, and the gentle giant had no wished to burden some unsuspecting girl with that baggage.

Modo had loved his sister and niece, and there were no words to describe the bond that he had shared with his mother. As the eldest male of his family, it had been _his_ job to protect them. It had been _his_ job to fight to keep them safe.

But he had failed.

He, Throttle, Vinnie as well as any other Martian male that could be spared from the front lines had raced to save as many females as they could…but they had been captured. As hard as they had fought, they had been outnumbered a hundred to one. Those who had not been killed during the mission soon found themselves wishing that they _had_ been—having been taken prisoner long enough to watch helplessly as all the females were shot in their cages like animals. Blaster shots had ripped through the air until every female in each cage was dead.

Modo could still hear his roar of desperation as he watched his family meet their deaths, and the vision even now still haunted his dreams. Many had been the night since that horrible day that he had awakened in a cold sweat while crying out the names of his mother, sister and niece, and he could not bring himself to saddle his potential wife and mate with that kind of PTSD.

But, after _much_ convincing on the parts of Charley, Vinnie, Stoker and Sydney, Modo finally agreed to go. He had tried to convince Throttle to go with him—thinking that it would do his brooding comrade some good—but the tawny-furred mouse had simply closed the door to his quarters in Modo's face in silent refusal. In the end, Modo had taken Rimfire with him.

Rimfire…

Modo never stopped feeling glad that his nephew had not been with him on the day that would forever be engrained in his memory. He was glad that Rimfire was spared from the haunting nightmares and the fearful screams the never seemed to truly fade from his own ears. Not to be said that Rimfire did not grieve the loss of his mother, twin and grandmother, because he _did_.

But he had not _seen_ them die…

He did not suffer from the weight of the near-crushing guilt that Modo did. Therefore he had no real emotional baggage to worry about at the mixer. While he was a little shy around girls, Rimfire had had no difficulties in finding a girl. A great deal of the younger ones swarmed around him—finding his youthful features adorable and his muscled physique desirable. But in the end, it had been in a young, lithe-limbed, dark haired and even darker-eyed beauty in which Rimfire had found his match.

Jaxxon, or rather 'Jax' as she preferred to be called was a beautiful computer genius who battled the Plutarkians on a cyber level. Along with the rest of the cyber division, Jax kept the Plutarkians from hacking into the Resistance's systems—battling the computer viruses sent to them while sending off viruses of their own.

Jax was sweet and a little on the klutzy side, just like her paramour, and it had not taken long for her and Rimfire to fall in love with each other. They had been together for three years now, and though they were not married, they still lived together. Having never really had many opportunities for dating on Mars, Rimfire had wanted to experience that before asking Jax to marry him, and fortunately, Jax was fine with that.

But it was not only they who had been fortunate on the night of the mixer. That had also been the night Modo had met Emily…

Though, Modo had spent the better part of the night believing that he would have to wait until the next mixer before he himself would meet a girl. He had spent most of the night watching as most of the Martians in attendance paired off with human females, and he found himself cursing his body.

Before the Plutarkians first invaded Mars, Modo had had a following of females. However, a gentleman to a fault, and always on the shy side with girls to begin with, he had never taken advantage of the willing females in the way that most other males would have. Even when the war began, the battle scars he received did nothing to detract from his god-like physique.

Females thought the scars were sexy.

But then came the accident that landed Stoker, Throttle, Vinnie and himself on Karbunkle's exam tables.

Modo lost his eye as well as his arm, and with the loss of those two body parts also came the loss of his female following. The night of the mixer only served to remind the gentle giant of what he had lost, and it was with a lone tear of humiliation rolling down his cheek that Modo had turned and strode out of the door of the room…

Only to walk right into a blond woman whose head just barely cleared his massive chest.

Modo had apologized profusely as he helped the young woman to her feet and subtly swept his gaze over her –noticing that she was wearing a pair of pink scrubs. The girl had smiled and brushed the incident off with a giggle before worriedly asking if the mixer was over—saying how she had _just_ gotten off her shift at the hospital. Once Modo had assured her that the mixer was still in fact in full swing, he had moved to excuse himself only to stop when the girl placed her hand upon his forearm—asking him why he was leaving.

Modo had told her it was because he was not having any luck and was sure that he was not going to, and then the girl smiled sweetly and uttered the words that to this day made Modo's heart flutter…

_"That's because I only just got here."_

He and Emily had been inseparable after that.

Emily was gentle, sweet and had a very nurturing nature. Her smile could brighten up any room, and her giggles were like music. But more importantly, she was not put off at all by either Modo's plethora of scars, or by his robotic addition. She was a girly-girl—so very feminine and completely in love with the color pink—something Modo was completely unaccustomed to, but had discovered early on that he loved it!

Emily was perfect.

She was a warm beam of light in another wise dark and harsh world, and every time she held Modo after one of his nightmares, the gentle giant fell deeper and deeper in love with her until he finally could not stop himself anymore from asking her to marry him.

As Modo carefully climbed into bed and under the covers, he smiled widely and his heart fluttered with delight when Emily rolled over and nestled her smaller body into his. He could not stop himself from nuzzling his wife's hair anymore than he could stop himself from deeply breathing in her sweet scent.

"Love you, big boy," Emily murmured softly in her sleep.

Modo sighed softly and he held his wife close as his eye closed and he followed her into the land of dreams. "Love you too, darlin'."

* * *

_…Somewhere below the surface…_

Throttle Thorneboy's long, black trench coat fluttered lazily behind him as he strode slowly through the labyrinth of underground tunnels of Los Angeles after having secured Lady in the garage that housed all bikes of the militia and infantry. His steps were heavy as though he was carrying the weight of the entire world upon his broad shoulders. Five years had done much to change the Martian, but it was in appearance that it showed the most…

No longer jeans of a dark blue wash did he wear, but black leather pants. His biker boots were heavier now and had thicker soles—all the better for kicking in Plutarkian skulls. No longer did he wear his black, leather vest, but a long, black trench coat of heavy leather that he always wore open—all the better to display the plethora of scars that he had received over the past five years. His features had a decidedly more gaunt appearance now, and then there was the matter of his hair. What had once been soft, shoulder-length hair that Carbine used to love to run her fingers through was now a series of braids and dreadlocks that fell to the middle of his back.

While he had experienced war for what had seemed like an eternity, the past five years had become akin to the straw that would finally break his back. War was ugly, and this one had proven uglier and longer than Throttle would have liked.

He was getting tired.

But it was not in the direction of his quarters and his bed that he strode as he, like Modo and Vinnie, got off his shift for the night. Rather, it was towards what had in the past four years become his favorite haunt…

Dragon's Den.

It was the only bar in the underground tunnels of Los Angeles, and it was where Throttle went at the end of all his shifts since to clear his mind of all thoughts…

Thoughts of Carbine.

Carbine…

They were to be married when the war was finally over. They had plans to help rebuild their beloved planet side by side as husband and wife. They even had plans for children. Carbine had only wanted one, but Throttle was gradually convincing her towards more.

But those plans and dreams were dead now…

Just like Carbine.

Throttle could still see his lover's face as she was shot point-blank in her cage like a common animal. But Carbine had not screamed…not once had she begged for her life or for mercy. A military leader until the end, Carbine had met her fate head on—staring her executioner in the face and not even flinching when he pulled the trigger. Then, as she lay dying on the floor of her cage, Carbine had weakly turned her gaze to Throttle—finding him in the crowd and smiling weakly at him before her eyes closed forever.

Throttle must have blacked out after that…or Vinnie knocked him out to keep him from hurting himself, because when he opened his eyes again, he was in a different place. That did not mean that he was not haunted by what he saw. Even now, five years later, every time Throttle closed his eyes he saw Carbine's dead face staring back at him.

And that was why Throttle drank…

It made Carbine's face go away

He had never been a drinker because frankly, Throttle had never seen the point behind it. But his nightmares had driven him to it. Having never been one to be open about his feelings like Vinnie or even Modo, Throttle had turned all of his grief, guilt and rage inward. He had turned from those who would have helped him and instead sought to self-medicate himself.

His friends kept trying to talk him out of the hole he had dug himself into, but Throttle was content to stay wrapped inside of his guilt—finding it comforting after so long. Charley and his friend's wives kept trying to convince Throttle to attend the various mixers that were held, or to at least go out with girls that they worked with, but the tan-furred Martian had steadfastly refused at every turn.

He did not deserve another woman…

Not after the way he had failed Carbine.

Throttle could not save the woman he loved, so therefore he did not deserve to love again.

"There he is. Evenin', Throttle. Or rather should I say…top o' the mornin', considerin' the hour?"

Throttle was ripped from his thoughts by a broad, Irish brogue, and he gave its owner the smallest of smiles and softest of chuckles. "Morning, Duncan," he replied in his gravelly voice that had attained a slightly darker quality in the last five years. The bar itself was fairly open, so Throttle was able to claim his favorite barstool, and he did so with a heavy sigh as he regarded the bar keeper—as always, fascinated by his goth appearance..

"The usual, then?" Duncan asked as he regarded Throttle with his steady gaze. Originally from Dublin, he and his wife, Abbi, had moved across the pond with their entire life's savings and opened a bar in the heart of Los Angeles.

Then a year later, all Hell broke lose on the entire planet.

When humanity as well as the Martians moved underground, the immigrant couple had rebuilt their bar and kept it open 24/7 for members of the Resistance. They themselves were unable to join the military forces—the both of them were diabetic—but they helped by providing all the brave fighters with a place to unwind after stressful days.

"What else is there?" Throttle asked with a small chuckle.

Duncan grinned and chuckled as he poured Throttle a shot of Southern Comfort then left the bottle on the bar. "I keep waitin' for the day you surprise me, boy-o."

"No surprises here, man," Throttle said before downing the shot and pouring himself another. "Where's that beautiful wife of yours?"

"Upstairs," Duncan said as he motioned with his head to the back stairs that led up to their apartment. "She's grabbin' a few hours sleep, but she'll be back down soon to relieve me."

"Yeah, well…be sure you take care of her," Throttle said as he down his shot. "Take care of your woman, Duncan…keep her safe because she is the most precious thing you'll ever have." He poured another shot before dowing it.

"I do take care of her," Duncan answered as he watched Throttle pour and down three more shots.

"Good," Throttle grunted before finishing another shot.

After a few moments of watching the Martian work his way down to half of what had been a full bottle at the time of his arrival that night, Duncan cleared his throat. "Throttle…far be it from me to keep business from comin' into my bar, but don't you think that maybe you should slow down a bit?"

Throttle sighed heavily and slowly rolled his empty shot glass back and forth between his thumb and index finger. "There'll be plenty of time to slow down when I'm dead," he said with only the slightest of slurs to his gravelly voice.

Duncan sighed and tilted his head to the side a little. "Throttle, I don't need to be a Mensa candidate to see that you're hurtin'…but trust me…as an Irishman who has seen his fair share of men seek to cure their ills by drinking them away…it's _not_ the answer." He tapped the bottle with his index finger. "This won't make your pain go away."

"No," Throttle said softly as he took the bottle away from Duncan and poured himself another shot. "But it'll at least give me some peace from it…if only for a little while."

* * *

**A/N:** Be sure to check out my profile for pics of the girls! ;3


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you everyone who's been reading my fic, and thank you so very much all of you who reviewed the last chapter! I love hearing from my readers, and I do accept anonymous reviews, so please don't be shy :)

******MorbidCrow:** As always, my dearest friend, thank you so much for letting me bounce ideas off of you. You rock!

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters that you will find in this story, nor do I own anything else pertaining to Biker Mice from Mars. I also don't own the character of Duncan who belongs to fellow FF/net member, and my very dear friend, MorbidCrow. However, all other OCs belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

* * *

_'Forget your high society… I'm soaking it in kerosene.  
Light 'em up and watch them burn;  
teach 'em what they need to learn.'_

_-'Kerosene' by Miranda Lambert_

_…Fort Bliss, Texas; the next morning…_

In the underground mess hall, Anya Blaine absently hummed _'Battle Hymn to the Republic' _as she poured herself a cup of coffee. Around her, other members of the Resistance milled around as they sought to grab a quick bite before they had to start their shifts. As she sipped her coffee and savored its strong brew, Anya watched her fellow comrades in arms as they went about what had in the past five years become their normal routines.

Their faces were worn and many were crisscrossed with scars that had either been received when the invasion first began or during the course of the war. Men, women…it did not matter. _Everyone_ had their scars, and even the women wore theirs with pride. They did not try to cover them up with make-up, but rather wore them proudly as badges of courage. They had earned them fighting for their loved ones as well as for their planet, and there was no greater honor than that.

Unlike her, many of her comrades had to be built from the ground up into soldiers. Many members of the Resistance had never even entertained thoughts of wielding a firearm, let alone being in a profession that involved putting their lives on the line. But those days of innocence were long since gone. Even people who had vehemently protested the use of firearms before the invasion had been forced to take up arms against the galactic threat. Gun control was the least of their worries now.

The name of the game was survival.

Having been a Texas Ranger before the war began, and coming from a long line of family members that had either served in the military or law enforcement, Anya was already better trained than most. She was more than comfortable around firearms, but more importantly, she knew how to use them. Add to that the fact that she had experience in a wide array of hostile situations because of her chosen profession, and how to remain calm in such situations; Anya had been promoted early on to Squadron Leader—or rather, Commander, as they were all called.

She had not been the only one.

Any member of the Resistance who was not a member of the military–mainly those who had law enforcement experience—that showed an affinity for leadership and direction had been put in charge of their own squadron. Military leaders as well as government officials around the world had learned early on that they could not leave the leadership of the Resistance's forces in the hands of military members.

There were simply too many people to lead into battle and not enough people to lead them—even with the Martians leading the brunt of the strikes.

But that was not to say that Anya and the other promoted leaders had not required any training. After all, Martian blasters handled differently than human guns, and they were amongst the firearms that were being used. Not to mention the Martians needed to school them about the enemy they were to fight. Then, last but certainly not least, there was the fact that she as well as the other promoted leaders had to become accustomed to the Martian-made motorcycle that had been issued to them. As Squadron Leaders, Anya and the others had to have impeccable riding skills because it was _they_ who were leading their squadrons into the heat of battle, and it was _they_ who had to perform intricate and evasive maneuvers in order to assure the safety of those under their command.

Anya had never ridden a motorcycle before, and at first she was a little nervous about it. But after spending an afternoon with her bike, Anya had found it to be very much like a horse—especially once she realized that her A.I. bike actually had a personality. It responded to her words as well as her actions, and once she and her bike had been implanted with corresponding chips, it responded to her very heart rate. It had not taken very long for both rider and bike to bond, and Anya had even named her bike 'Valkyre', after her favorite horse that had been killed when the invasion first began.

As with all infantry bikes, Valkyre was capable of reaching higher speeds than other bikes were. He was also equipped with high-grade rocket and grenade launchers as well as extra holsters for ammunition and firearms. Simply put, the infantry bikes were designed to get in and out of hot zones quickly while causing as much damage as possible.

And she had put that speed to great advantage that morning.

Anya grinned darkly at that thought and finished the last of her coffee before humming just a little louder as though singing in victory.

"You're awfully chipper, considerin'…"

Anya blinked and turned her head to the right to see her squad-mate, Jake coming to stand beside her. "Considerin' what?" she asked. "The fact that the _one_man I opened my heart to since my husband died turned out to be a lyin', cheatin' sonuvabitch?"

"Yeah…_that_," Jake answered with a small nod before looking down at his feet and absently kicking an invisible something with his toe. "Do you hate me for tellin' you?"

"Nah," Anya said with a small shake of her head as she tossed her empty cup into a nearby trashcan. "I'd rather hear it from you than a total stranger…though I have to admit that I half believed that you were lyin' until I saw it with my own eyes."

"I really _am_ sorry though," Jake said as he raised his gaze back to Anya. "I know how hard it was getting back into datin' since your husband was killed three years ago."

Anya sighed softly though there was a heaviness to it. "Yeah, it was hard alright…"

Brian, Anya's late husband, had been her high school sweetheart, and the two of them were together through all four years. A month after they had graduated from high school, they were married and the both of them joined the ranks of the Texas Rangers. While they had had their share of arguments and problems like any other couple, they worked through them and always came out stronger in the end and more in love than ever. Brian had been Anya's first real love, and even after only five years of marriage, she had assumed that he would be the one she would grow old with.

But then the invasion happened.

Brian had been killed in action three years into the invasion, and Anya had spent the past two years grieving his loss. She had avoided all inter-species mixers like the plague—claiming either illness or fatigue. When those excuses did not work, Anya made sure that she was on duty—even going so far as to pick up extra patrol shifts with different squadrons. She simply had not been ready to get back into the saddle and become a Martian's mate when she herself was still grieving the loss of a love that had been almost twelve years in the making. It simply would not have been fair to either herself or to whichever Martian she ended up with, and it was with _that_ thought in mind that Anya had avoided situations that would have led to dating until she was ready.

That time came two weeks ago, and Anya had fully intended to attend the mixer that had been scheduled for that night. She had even been looking forward to it. After all, the Martians were easy enough on the eyes, and from what she had gleaned from her interactions with them in the field, they were for the most part good and honorable.

But then she had met Larry.

Larry had just transferred in from Tennessee, and he had immediately caught Anya's attention with his boyish good looks and charm. He had asked her out for drinks that very night, and she had readily accepted—all thoughts of Martians and mixers completely knocked out of her head.

Looking back on that now, Anya realized it had been one of the worst mistakes in her life!

Anya sighed again then gave Jake a small grin. "Yeah, well…live and let live…forgive and forget, and all that jazz," she said airily with a shrug before walking off in the direction of the garage.

Jake blinked then immediately took off after Anya before hurriedly stepping in front of her—preventing her from moving forward. "Okay…_what_ did you do?"

Anya's face was the picture of innocence as she gazed up at her squadron mate. "I didn't do anything to any_body_," she answered.

Jake crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head to the side as he regarded the lithe red head. "Yeah…see, why don't I believe you?"

"I dunno, Jake…why don't you?" Anya asked.

"Because after fightin' by yer side and havin' yer back fer five years, I've come to know you, Anya…and I _know_ you're not the 'forgive and forget' type."

"Oh?" Anya asked with the smallest of smiles. "Then what type _am_ I?"

"The 'Hell hath no fury, shoot 'em all and let God sort it out' type," Jake answered without even a second thought.

Anya grinned briefly before she rolled her eyes and sighed. "Trust me, Jake…Larry is _still_ the lyin' sack of shit he was last night when I saw him…" she clenched her jaw before giving her head a small shake in order to clear her mind of all the hurt and rage she still felt at that moment. After a few moments she cleared her throat and continued with her train of thought. "I just gave him a reason to think long and hard about the error of his ways," she said as she stepped around Jake and continued towards the garage.

"And just what is _that_ supposed to mean?" Jake asked as he strode alongside Anya.

"Take it as you will," Anya said airily.

Jake sighed heavily. "Anya, I—"

"COMMANDER BLAINE!"

Anya and Jake turned in the direction of the booming voice that reverberated off the walls of the cavern and were welcomed by the sight of none other than a seething Colonel Walker—Anya's uncle—standing at the opposite end. A career soldier who had joined the Army when he was eighteen, Russell Walker had worked his way up through the ranks with hard work as well as going above and beyond the call of duty on more than one occasion. He was a highly decorated soldier as well as war-hero, but that that did not come without a price.

Colonel Walker was a no-nonsense man with no patience for any kind of dissention within his ranks.

"Commander Blaine…my office…_NOW_!"

Anya groaned and walked heavily in the direction opposite from which she had originally been heading. "Aw, fuck me…and this was starting off as such a great day…"

"Good luck, Commander," Jake whispered hurriedly. "I think you're going to need it.

Anya hurried to her uncle and followed him wordlessly down the tunnels—ignoring the curious stares of humans and Martians alike—until they reached his office. Once inside, she turned and readied herself to plead her case, but found her words dying in her throat when she saw the stony mask of her uncle's face as he shut the door firmly behind him while staring her down.

"Starting fires on the surface, while using another recruit's belongings as an energy source…slashing the tires of said recruit's motorcycle and removing the A.I. chip…Anya Lee Blaine, just _what_ in the Hell did you think you were doing?" Colonel Walker asked as he strode over to his desk.

"Trust me, Uncle Russ…the sonuvabitch had it comin'," Anya said with the smallest of growls. "And my daddy… _your_ brother always told me to _never_ lie down and take bad treatment from a man. I was only doin' what he told me to do."

"By turnin' into a fire-bug?" Russell asked with narrowed eyes. "Somehow I don't think _that's_ what my little brother had in mind.

"It was the only way I could think of to send a strong message," Anya answered. "It's not like breaking up with him would've made much a dent." She clenched her jaw and steadfastly willed herself not to cry. "Especially since he didn't seem to care that we were together in the first place."

Colonel Walker sighed heavily as he pressed his hands on the surface of his desk and leaned on it. "Anya…you're my late, brother's only child and I love you to death…and if circumstances were normal, I'd be taking that waste of hair an' teeth out back and shootin' him between the eyes myself for whatever wrong he did to you. But circumstances _aren't_ normal. Damn it, Anya," he said as he pounded his desk with a fist. "We're at _war_ with an enemy the likes of which we've never seen. We _can't_ afford to turn on each other!"

"But I—"

"We've lost _three_ more states just this morning, Anya," Russell said with a growl. "North Dakota, Tennessee and Hawaii are all _gone_! That's three whole states of our country and three whole populations of our struggling world that have just been wiped out from existence! Somehow I think whatever wrongs have been done to you pale in comparison."

Though she said nothing, Anya did hang her head a little. When she _did_ finally speak, it was in the monotone voice that she reserved for when she was in danger of bursting into tears. "So what happens now…Colonel?"

Colonel Walker sighed heavily. "The resistance can't afford to throw any commanding officers into the brig, so there's only one course of action left to me, and that is to transfer you to another base."

"I understand," Anya replied in a soft yet flat voice. "May I ask where I'm going, Colonel?"

"I received word this morning that the base in Los Angeles is in need of a new Squadron Leader. I was about to send word back that we had none to spare, but in light of the situation, that has changed," Colonel Walker said as he scribbled a message out on a piece of paper with the base's insignia. "Here are your orders, Commander. You are to present them to a Stoker Von Rotten, and he'll place you where you're needed." He handed the paper to Anya. "There's a transport leaving for L.A. in two hours…be on it."

* * *

_…Los Angeles; Throttle's quarters; that afternoon…_

Throttle's sleep was one of the dead—something he only achieved after a night of massive drinking. It was a sleep without dreams…without memories, and that was the way Throttle preferred it. It was the only time he was ever at peace…

Until now.

The incessant knocking at Throttle's door caused that perfect peace to crumble around him, and he groaned in annoyance. "Go 'way," he slurred as he rolled over and buried his face in his pillow.

There was a series of soft beeps before the door slid open to allow Vinnie access. "Rise and shine, bro," he greeted with a grin that faltered a little upon seeing Throttle—the one he had looked up to and admired for so many years—on the shady side of a hangover. The fact that his friend was still in bed when it was almost four o'clock in the afternoon, only spoke to Vincent about just how _much_ Throttle had had to drink the night before. It was no doubt one of Throttle's worst drinking binges, and it pained the white-furred mouse to see his friend this way.

It pained Vinnie to see his friend still hurting so deeply after five years. It seemed as though every surviving Martian had managed to move on in one way or another from all the pain of their losses with the exception of Throttle who seemed to become more haunted and tortured with every passing day. Try as he, Charley, Modo and Stoker might, they simply could not pull Throttle free of his ever growing depression, and Vincent simply did not know how much longer his friend could last beneath its weight; especially when Throttle turned away from every effort to leverage that weight from his shoulders. Rather, Throttle seemed perfectly content to crumble beneath the massive weight of his guilt-induced depression…

And Vinnie and the others were dreading the day that the tanned mouse would simply go to sleep after one of his drinking binges and not wake up in the morning. They had tried interventions on several occasions, but they never worked.

They simply caused Throttle to draw further in upon himself.

"I will neither rise nor shine," was the muffled and irritated response from Throttle's pillow. "Get out."

"Can't bro," Vinnie said with feigned chipperness. "We've got our shift starting in an hour, so you've gotta be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed."

"We're _mice_, Vincent," Throttle all but snarled in growing annoyance as he pulled a second pillow over his head. "We don't _have_ bushy tails."

"It's a figure of speech, bro," Vinnie answered with a roll of his eyes as he made sure the door slid shut behind him. Knowing Throttle would not be wearing his shades, he turned the lights onto their lowest possible setting so as not to hurt his friend's highly sensitive eyes. "Now let's—" His eyes widened and he narrowly managed to duck and avoid one of Throttle's heavy boots as it came flying at him and hit the now closed door instead. "Watch it, bro…you almost hit me."

"At least it would've shut your damn motormouth," Throttle growled from under his pillow. "Too bad I missed."

"That's cold, man," Vinnie said as he crossed the room to yank the covers off Throttle's body. "Now get your tail out of bed."

"Fuck you," Throttle snarled.

"Sorry bro, you're not my type," Vinnie replied without missing a beat. "Now get your ass out of that bed and get ready for patrol."

Throttle responded by turning onto his side so his back was towards Vinnie, and then pulled his pillows tighter around his head.

"Don't make me call Modo in here," Vinnie said as he crossed his arms over his muscled chest. "'Cause I'll do it."

Throttle shifted his pillows before turning to look over his shoulder at Vinnie—narrowing his garnet eyes at the younger Martian. "You don't have the stones."

Vinnie raised an eyebrow. "Wanna bet?"

* * *

_…Twenty minutes later…_

"Hey, Uncle Modo…Throttle, Vinnie," Rimfire greeted with a smile. He had just been escorting Jax to the central computer lab where she worked, when he had paused upon seen the three older males approaching.

"Hey guys," Jax greeted with a smile as she leaned into Rimfire's strong body—her smile only growing when the arm her lover had around her waist tightened.

"Hey kids," Modo greeted with a smile and a nod as he approached—leaving Vinnie and a grouchy Throttle to continue in the direction of the garage.

"Uncle Modo, I'm _not_a kid anymore," Rimfire said with a role of his eyes. "I'm twenty-five."

Modo grinned and ruffled his nephew's streaked hair. "You'll _always_ be a kid to me. Meet us in the garage?"

"Right after I take Jax to work," Rimfire said with a nod before turning to face his lover when his uncle strode off after Throttle and Vinnie. He smiled softly and gazed deeply into Jax's chocolate-brown eyes that were positioned so perfectly in her delicate face. Not even the scars that crossed her face—souvenirs from when the invasion first began—could detract from her beauty.

A computer genius, Jax had been working towards her Masters degree in computer forensics at Johns Hopkins. She was even scheduled to graduate early—just as she had from college—but then the invasion occurred. Having been in the library when the attack began, Jax had barely survived having the building crumble down around her. In the end, she had been fortunate to walk away with only a few scars on her face when so many others had lost either limb or even life.

Rimfire counted his blessings every day that Jax had survived that ordeal. He had never thought he would find someone he could actually love. Life on Mars had always been too chaotic with the constant Plutarkian attacks, and Rimfire had always been so busy with the Freedom Fighters that he had never had much of a chance for relationships. When came the few instances when the situations _did_in fact present themselves, Rimfire was always too shy to really do anything. Besides, he always thought he would have time for relationships _after_ the war was over.

But that was not the case, and when the first inter-species mixer was announced, Rimfire decided to take bull by the horns and find a girl that he could fall in love with. Like his uncle, he had nothing but the highest respect for females and was not interested in a fling—especially not since the fate of his race depended on procreating with human females. He had not expected to find a girl that night, but he had. Shy from all the ogling and general feeling like a piece of meat, Rimfire had gravitated towards the bar area to lay low and that was where he first saw Jaxon…

Self-conscious because of the scars on her face, the tall and lithe brunette was playing the part of the wallflower, but Rimfire had found the fact that she had not thrown herself at him to be more than refreshing. Jax was so very lovely, and once the two of them began talking Rimfire had learned instantly that her beauty was anything but skin deep; and while he did not fall in love with her right there and then, Rimfire knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jax would be the one he would fall in love with and eventually marry.

He felt it down to his bones.

They had been together for three years, and Rimfire still thought Jax was the most beautiful woman in the galaxy. Though healed and much smaller than when they had first been inflicted, the young Martian knew how self-conscious Jax was about the scars on her face, and he strove to tell her every day just how beautiful he thought she was.

"I love you _so_much," Rimfire said as he pulled his lover close and touched his antennae to her forehead. At 5'10", Jax was only three inches shorter than he was, so he did not have to lean down very far.

Jax smiled and gazed back into Rimfire's soft, brown eyes—her heart fluttering and shivers running through her spine as she felt Rimfire's love and desire for her flowing through her via the antennae currently pressed against her forehead. "And I love you," she said before kissing her lover's lips. "Be safe out there, okay?"

"Aren't I always?" Rimfire asked with a grin before playfully licking the tip of Jax's nose as he lightly stroked her long, dark hair. "Don't worry, my beautiful geek," he said as he lightly touched his nose to Jax's. "Nothing could ever keep me from coming back to you." He pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. "I gotta go…I'll try not to wake you when I get home."

"Okay, Space-man McGee," Jax said with a smile before stealing a kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too," Rimfire said with a wide smile before reluctantly stepping away and even more reluctantly turning to hurry in the direction of the garage—leaving Jax to turn on her heel and hurry into the computer lab.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you everyone who's been reading my fic, and thank you so very much all of you who reviewed the last chapter! I love hearing from my readers, and I do accept anonymous reviews, so please don't be shy :)

******MorbidCrow:** As always, my dearest friend, thank you so much for letting me bounce ideas off of you. You rock!

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters that you will find in this story, nor do I own anything else pertaining to Biker Mice from Mars (unfortunately -,-). I also don't own the character of Duncan who belongs to fellow FF/net member, and my very dear friend, MorbidCrow. However, all other OCs belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

* * *

_'Drink with me to days gone by.  
Sing with me the songs we knew.'_

_-'Drink with Me' from Les Miserables_

_…Repair garage; the next afternoon…_

Charley sat back on her heels and brushed her auburn bangs out of her face with the one part of her gloved hand that was _not_ completely covered in grease and motor oil. Of course, she still managed to leave a dark smudge on her forehead, but after having grown up in her father's garage and taken over his business when he died, Charley was not above getting dirty; especially not when it was for such a good cause like saving the planet.

Save the planet…_literally_.

Charley chuckled softly at that thought. _I bet this wasn't what the hippies and eco-freaks had in mind…_

No. This was _not_ a battle to save the planet by recycling and 'going green' in order to leave a smaller carbon footprint. This was not a battle to save the blue whale or some species of butterfly. Those causes were trivial by comparison. This was a battle against the complete and total annihilation of their planet and species from a force the likes of which they had never before faced. Both of the World Wars paled in comparison to the amount of physical and emotional damage that the people of Earth were now being forced to endure. But at least through all of that pain and damage, Charley had Vinnie.

Vincent Van Wham…

Charley could not believe just how much the white-furred Martian had matured—how much more like an adult he behaved. He was no longer a 'boy', but a man. But then again, watching helplessly while half of your species was exterminated would have maturing effects on _anyone_. No longer the careless and carefree spirit he had once been, there was now a shred of darkness deep inside of Vincent that prevented him from viewing the world through the rose-colored glasses through which he had once seen the world and its wonders. He was more hardened now, and that pain Charley so very deeply. Of course that was not to say that Vinnie had _completely_ lost his impish and mischievous nature, because he had _not_.

Not by any means.

Vinnie still ran his mouth, and it occasionally got him into trouble that Throttle or Modo—usually Modo—had to get him out of. But unlike five years ago, Vinnie had more control over it now. It still did not stop him though. It was simply who he was. He was the clown, and in the past five years, he had taken it upon himself to use his impish behavior and humor to keep spirits and morale high. There was a method to Vinnie's jokes now, and he saved his best ones for when his squad and family were at their lowest—not stopping in his antics until he had been rewarded with smiles and laughter. Vinnie was the _heart_ of their motley family. That task alone was monumental and took great inner strength on Vinnie's part, and that was one of the reasons behind why Charley loved him as much as she did.

The lovely mechanic still remembered how her husband had held her the night that her father's garage had been destroyed. She how Vinnie had cradled her as she wept—murmuring into her ear that he would always keep her safe.

And she had believed him.

The world was in peril and falling down all around her, and yet in Vincent's arms, Charley had never felt safer. She still felt that way, and Charley knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that she would _always_ feel that way.

"This one's done," Charley said with a triumphant grin as she came out of her reverie and removed her glove before patting the bike which seemed to purr in response. "The gyro's all fixed and the oil's been changed, so she should run better than a dream."

"Alright, Van Wham…I'll let the rider know," the chief mechanic said.

Charley stood and stretched her back—a soft groan escaping her lips as a few vertebrae popped. Placing her hands on her jumpsuit-covered hips, she slowly rolled her head on her shoulders before adjusting the blaster fastened to her right thigh. It had been a long day, and she was looking forward to her shift ending in a few minutes.

"Go on and get out of here, Van Wham," the chief mechanic said after glancing at the clock.

"Are you sure?" Charley asked.

"Yeah, you've got less than five minutes left."

"Alright, thanks," Charley said with a grin as she strode towards the door. "See you tomorrow." That said, she left the repair garage and strode towards the mess hall for a very late lunch…or an early dinner depending on how one looked at it. "Look at me," Charley muttered to herself with a chuckle. "Thirty-four, and I'm already having the Early Bird Special."

"Oh, come on…it can't be that bad."

Charley looked to her right and smiled when she saw Emily walking beside her. As always, the blond was wearing pink scrubs. "Hey you."

"Hey yourself," Emily answered as she freed her long, blond hair from its tight bun and sighed happily as she shook her locks free. "Oh, I never get tired of that feeling," she said with a smile before stifling a yawn.

"You look tired," Charley said as they walked—taking in the tired lines on her friend's face.

"So do you," Emily said.

"Yeah, but _my_ tiredness doesn't really count," Charley replied. "I'm not the one saving lives around the clock."

"Just because you're not in the hospital doesn't mean you're not saving lives," Emily said with a smile. "If it wasn't for you and the other mechanics, the Resistance wouldn't be able to function. It's _you_ mechanics that keep everything working they way they should."

Charley smiled softly. "Thanks, sweetie."

"Anytime, sis," Emily said with a playful wink. "Would you like some company for dinner?"

"I _always_ welcome your company," Charley said as they continued down the tunnel.

"Good to know," Emily said with a happy laugh. "Still…it'd be nice to have dinner with our boys once in a while."

"You can say that again," Charley replied with a soft chuckle. "Although, at least _I'm_ guaranteed to have breakfast with Vinnie, so that's something at least."

Emily sighed. "That must be nice. Since all medical personnel are on constant call…especially lately, I'm lucky if I get to spend ten minutes with Modo." She sighed again and pouted. "I can't remember the last time we made love…" She smiled sheepishly. "On the nights I'm actually home when Modo gets off his shift, I try to stay awake until he gets home from his shifts so I can initiate it…but I just can't keep my eyes open, and that big, loveable lug of mine takes so much care _not_ to wake me when he gets home that he just crawls into bed next to me and goes without."

"Emily, sweetie…I'm sure that Modo understands," Charley said as she patted the blonde's shoulder. Though she could not stop herself from grinning at the sudden mental image she had of the gentle giant tip-toeing to and from bed in order to avoid waking the blond nurse. "He knows how hard you and al the other medical personnel work, and he knows how important that work is to the Resistance. Trust me, I know that big lug pretty well, and I know that he's not going to put his physical needs above the needs of the many."

Emily blushed softly. "But what about _my_ physical needs?"

Charley blinked—honestly not expecting the blonde's reaction. "I'm sorry, what?"

Emily blushed deeper. "What? A girl's got needs too," she said with a sheepish smile. "I miss my Modo-bear…"

Charley grinned and gently pulled Emily to a stop. "Well, I've got an easy solution for you, sweetie."

Emily blinked. "Really? Well, I'm all ears."

"Caffeine," Charley answered after drawing close to Emily's ear as though she were going to impart the most important secret in the world upon her. "Lots and _lots_ of caffeine."

* * *

_…Stoker's office; that evening…_

Standing behind his desk, Stoker leaned over the many battle plans and schematics that were spread across the surface. His reddish-brown eyes scanned the pages as he weighed his various options while planning the next moves and actions for the Los Angeles division. It felt so strange being behind a desk. It simply was not what he was used to.

Having joined the military back on Mars when he was eighteen, Stoker had over thirty years of active duty experience under his belt. He had led many a squadron into battle, both during his time in the proper army as well as during his time as the founding member of the Freedom Fighters. He had seen more than his fair share of war and its ugliness, and that was why the Resistance on Earth decided to utilize his knowledge and experience in this way. Despite the fact that Stoker still had years of fighting left in him regardless of his age, it had been decided that rather than losing a brilliant military mind like his in battle that they would put Stoker in a position that would allow for all of his knowledge and experience to be put to better use.

But that still did not make it any less strange for him.

Stoker was a man of action, but he was willing to look past that and do his job to the very best of his ability. "Come in," he said upon hearing the sound of a throat clearing. As always when he was in his office, the door was open. Looking up, he was greeted with the sight of a petite red-haired girl. "Can I help you?"

"Anya Blaine," the girl said as she stepped forward and closed the distance between her and the desk. "Just transferred here from Fort Bliss, Texas. Here are my orders," she said as she handed Stoker an envelope. "I would've been here sooner…several hours ago actually, but my transport had to fight its way through an ambush. Damn Plutarkians…their like gnats. The wounded have been taken to the hospital already."

"Fort Bliss, huh?" Stoker asked as he opened the envelope. "Just you?"

"I'm all that Colonel Walker could spare," Anya answered.

Stoker sighed. "That seems to be the way of things everywhere," he said as he scanned the contents of the letter than had been in the envelope. "Alright well, everything here looks good," he said before putting the letter down and ruffling through one of the piles of papers on his desk. "I'm putting you in charge of Red Squadron," he said at last once he had found the correct sheet of paper and handed it to Anya. "Here's a list of the names that'll be under your command…Mother of Mars willing, most of the names on this list will make it back tonight," he said with a sigh. "They should be coming back any time now, so either way, you'll know by morning. The location of their formation area in the garage hangar is also listed here…you can stow your bike there."

"Understood," Anya said as she took the paper. "Where am I bunking?"

Stoker flipped through a thick roster before giving a small nod and taking up a page with a map printout. "Your quarters are here," he said as he circled the location with a red marker. "What you're gonna do is head down the main tunnel until you come to a bar called Dragon's Den and it's gonna be on your left-hand side. Trust me, you can't miss it. Anyway, right when you pass it, you're gonna come to a tunnel on your right…once you take that tunnel, you should be able to find your way to the section of quarters where your room is located."

"Got it," Anya said with a small nod. "Anything else I should know, sir?"

"Your squadron assembles every afternoon at seventeen hundred. Don't be late." That being said, Stoker gave Anya a small, dismissive wave. "Go on and get yourself settled in and rest up while you still can."

"Yes, sir," Anya answered before turning on her heel and striding from the room.

She found her way back to the main tunnel easily enough, and she took that time to take in her new surroundings. This base seemed the worse for wear compared to Fort Bliss, but then again, the Los Angeles base was notorious for taking the brunt of the attacks this side of the Mississippi. No one knew why…

That was simply the way things were.

That was why the L.A. base was always in constant need of reinforcements. Unfortunately, reinforcements were more and more difficult to come by. Rumor had it that L.A. was the place to send soldiers that were 'problematic'. Thinking about it now, Anya could not help but believe that rumor. After all, _she_ had caused a 'problem' back at her base, and now she was here. The fact that her own uncle had sent her to what was commonly referred to as 'No Man's Land', caused bile to rise up in her throat.

"Nice to know family's got your back when it counts," she growled under her breath. She was approaching the bar now. Stoker had been right. She could _not_ miss it.

"Leave me alone, Vinnie."

Anya looked to her left to see a white-furred Martian gripping the arm of a tan-furred Martian with long dreadlocks and a black, leather trench coat. By the looks of it, the tan-furred mouse was _not _thrilled about being restrained when he had been making his way to the bar. _A lover's spat? _

"Throttle, come on…not tonight, okay, bro?"

Throttle threw off his friend's arm. "Who died and put _you_ in charge, Vincent?" he growled as his tail swished angrily.

Vincent's tail began its own angry swish and his ears flattened just a little. "_You _did, Throttle," he growled. "You died when you became this pathetic drunk, and you forced _me_ to be the mature one here…and it's _not_ a good look for me!"

Deciding it best to not get involved in a fight on her first day in a new base—especially in a fight that had nothing to do with her, Anya turned into the tunnel Stoker had told her about and began referring to her map as she looked for her quarters. Finally, after what seemed like an hour of looking, Anya came upon her door and it was with a heavy sigh that she opened it—wrinkling her nose the moment she stepped inside.

"Jumpin' Jehoshaphat…it smells like dude in here," she grumbled as she turned on the light—deciding to leave the door open for now so as to allow the room to air out a little. Removing her duffle bag from her shoulder, she allowed it to drop onto the floor as she crossed her arms over her chest and surveyed her new home.

It was smaller than the quarters she had had in Texas. But then again, _everything_ was bigger in Texas. Other than the size, it was not that much different from her old 'home'. There was a desk, against one wall, and against the other wall were a small dresser and an even smaller sink. There was no kitchen or bathroom, and Anya made a mental note to herself to find the communal showers and bathrooms once she had unpacked. _All _the bases were like that. None of the rooms had private bathrooms, and while at the beginning of the invasion Anya had been mortified at the prospect of showering in front of other men and women, she had long since become used to it. The bed was the same size and that was a good thing.

Anya had a tendency to move around in her sleep—which more often that not made for very awkward slumber parties—and her parents learned early on that she needed bigger than a twin bed. Many had been the night in Anya's childhood that her parents had been awakened by the audible thud followed by an annoyed yelp that could only signify their daughter having rolled and fallen out bed again. So, from the age of six up until the day she was married, Anya had slept in a full-sized bed.

Early on in her marriage to Brian, it became evident that a queen-sized bed simply would not do—not with the frequency with which Anya kicked and even occasionally pushed him out of bed. It was not as though Anya had _meant_ to do it…she was simply a restless sleeper. Or as Brian would jokingly put it, she was fighting bad guys in her dreams. Once the invasion had happened though, large and luxurious beds were out of the question. Full-sized beds became the standard issue, and that had led to many an uncomfortable night for Anya and Brian.

Of course, that all seemed so meaningless now…

As Anya picked up her duffle and made her way across the room towards the bed, she knew that she would trade one night of comfortable sleep in a bed by herself for _one_ night sleeping by Brian's side…to feel his love as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Strange, how that was the only time Anya did _not_ toss and turn...

Sighing, Anya dropped her duffle on the bed before sitting down upon the mattress—immediately wrinkling her nose once more at the smell that could only be classified as stale farts and BO combined with rancid sex wafting up from the sheets and into her nose. "Oh, Jesus tap-dancing Christ!" Jumping up from the bed, Anya threw her bag onto the floor and ripped the offending sheets from the bed before running madly from the room in search of the showers—holding the sheets as far away from her as possible.

* * *

_…Maverick's quarters…_

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Modo growled low in his throat and gripped Emily's hips with his powerful hands as she rode him. His tail was wrapped tightly around his wife's waist as he bent his head down to lavish kisses and gentle nips upon her perfect breasts—groaning in pleasure when Emily whimpered in delight and dug her nails into his muscled shoulders before dragging them down his sculpted chest.

Modo had not expected this when he arrived home that night. He had expected to find his wife sleeping as usual, so then imagine his surprise when the lithe blond had all but thrown her naked body at him the moment he had closed the door behind him. The gentle giant had wasted no time after that—all but ripping his own clothing from his body as he claimed Emily's lips in a hungry kiss before carrying her to the bed.

As always when they came together like this, Modo was amazed. While Emily was taller than the average human female—just under 5'10—the gentle giant was always amazed that the blond beauty could take all of his length into her. Even now, three yeas into their marriage, Modo could not believe that he fit inside of her. But he did, and felt beyond amazing.

"Modo," Emily whimpered softly. "Modo…kiss me…!"

Modo raised his head and captured his wife's lips in a long kiss—taking possession of it as he held Emily's hips down tightly against his thrusts and drove her over the edge. They shuddered hard together, and their muffled cries of release created a unique harmony as their tongues continued to taste and explore each other's mouths. When Modo finally broke the kiss, he leaned back and rested against the wall as he held Emily close ad nuzzled her hair.

"I love you," Modo murmured into his wife's ear as she finished milking him of his seed.

"And I love you," Emily murmured in response as she nuzzled her husband's ear. Modo was still inside of her, but the blond nurse was in no hurry to separate from her husband just yet. It had been so long since they had last been together like this, and Emily wanted to savor it for as long as possible. After all, who knew when the next time would be? "I _love_ how your fur feels against my naked skin," she all but purred as she ran her fingers slowly through the fur on Modo's chest.

Modo grinned and slowly stroked Emily's golden locks. "Well, you can stay like this as long as ya want, Emily darlin'. You'll get no complaints from me." He loosened his tail a little and allowed it to hang loosely around his wife's hips—the tip just barely brushing against Emily's belly button. He could already see Emily pregnant in his mind's eye, and Modo _loved_ what he saw.

Modo had always loved children, but he loved the idea of having his own with the woman he loved even more.

Emily seemed to pick up on her husband's train of though, and lightly placed a hand against the tip of his tail. "We'll have a baby soon enough," she said gently with a soft smile. She knew how heavily it weighed upon the minds of the Martians to rebuild their species. She knew that as soon as the war was over that Modo would be begging her to stop taking the contraceptive serum, and Emily was more than alright with that.

All the women involved with Martians were.

They _had_ to be. They knew under no uncertain terms that procreation would become the top priority for the Martians once the war was over, and if they were not ready for motherhood by that time, then they had until their last dosage of contraceptive serum wore off in which to change their minds.

But Emily knew that she would need no convincing for her destined motherhood. Like Modo, she loved children. Even from the time she was a child, it had been her dream to be a wife and a mother, and constant reminder of mortality that war provided only served to make the ticking of her biological clock seem all the louder.

Modo smiled softly. "You'll be beautiful pregnant," he said as he touched his antennae to Emily's head so she could see what he saw in his mind—her heavy and round with his child and glowing as her hands rested lovingly against her swollen belly.

Emily's heart fluttered at the image that filled her mind. "You won't think I'm fat?" she asked playfully.

"Never in a million years, darlin'," Modo said with a smile as he tenderly cupped Emily's face in his palms. "And I promise to build you and our babies a home that you can be proud of and call your own."

Emily brushed a tender kiss to her husband's mouth. "So long as we're together, Modo…it doesn't matter _where _we end up because wherever that is, it'll be home because we'll _make_ it our home." She lightly Eskimo kissed Modo's nose. "And whatever children we have will be lucky to have _you_ as their father."

Modo smiled softly as he lightly kissed Emily's eyelids. "I love you, Emily."

Emily smiled and kept her eyes closed as she reveled in her husband's tender ministrations. "And I love you, Modo…with all my heart."

* * *

_…Dragon's Den; later…_

"Throttle, have I ever told you that you remind me of Graverobber?" Abbi McAlister asked as she refilled an empty snack bowl with peanuts—the one bar snack that there was never any difficulty in finding.

"Who said I was robbing graves!" Throttle demanded with a slur as he slammed his shot glass down on the bar and jumped to his feet. "That's _disgustin'_! whoever said I's doin' that…they're_ lyin'_!'

Abbi's emerald eyes widened and she nervously twirled a strand of her blood-red hair around her finger. "Throttle, I didn't mean—"

"Who the _fuck's_ goin' around spreadin' these lies about me?" Throttle bellowed. "I'll fuckin' pulverize 'em!"

"Throttle…THROTTLE!" Duncan yelled as he tried to calm down the drunken and currently freaked out Martian. "She didn't say that ya _personally _were robbin' graves. She said that ya _looked_ like _Graverobber_."

Throttle blinked and slumped back down on the bar stool in a daze. "Oh…" he slurred. "Oops…" He then looked to Abbi and narrowed his eyes a little behind his shades before asking drunkenly. "Who the fuck is Graverobber?"

To which Abbi answered, "Only the hottest man in the world," she said with a dreamy sigh while fanning herself.

"Thanks darlin'," Duncan replied dryly. "Love you too."

"Except for you, love," Abbi added with a smile as she let her head fall onto her husband's shoulder.

"Good save, sweetheart," Duncan replied with a laugh before kissing the top of his wife's head then stepping away just enough to allow her the room to tie her hair off into two pigtails before she went of to gather up the used glasses that were scattered around. "Ta answer your question more thoroughly, Throttle, Graverobber is a character from _Repo! The Genetic Opera_, an'…well, he dresses a _lot_ like you do." He looked up as a fiery red head entered the bar. "Top o' the even', to ya," he greeted with a smile.

"I hear this is the place to go to get smashed," the girl said as she strode up to the bar and took the stool that was two down from Throttle.

"That it is," Duncan answered with a smile. "What can I get ya?"

"Shot of Jack…leave the bottle," the girl answered.

"Comin' right up," Duncan said. "I don't recall ever seein' ya around here before," he said as he placed the two ordered items in front of his new customer.

"That's 'cause I just got transferred here from Texas. The name's Anya," she said before downing her shot. After having all but drowned her sheets in the shower with water and every kind of soap that she could find, she had wrung them out before hanging them upon a makeshift clothesline she had strung through her room. Not knowing what else to do while she waited for her sheets to dry, Anya had decided to go to the bar and drown her sorrows a little.

Throttle snorted softly. "You just got transferred here? Who'd you piss off, Red?"

"The colonel," Anya answered bitterly as she poured herself another shot. "Apparently I wasn't _supposed_ to retaliate when wrong was done against me…I was just supposed to roll over an' take it like a 'good girl'. Shit…you think you know a person… " She threw back the shot and began to pour herself another but paused and turned to the Martian whom she now recognized as the one she had seen arguing earlier. "Care to join me, Shades? My daddy always told me never to drink alone."

Throttle thought about it for a moment before giving a small nod. "Sure, why not?" That being said he pushed his bottle of Southern Comfort back towards Duncan and stood before shifting over to the next stool so there was only the one between him and Anya. He then took the bottle of Jack and filled his glass.

"You got a name?" Anya drawled as she refilled her glass. "Or do I have to keep callin' you 'Shades'?" She of course remembered Throttle's name, but until she knew just what kind of a drunk the Martian was, she did not want to upset him by acting more familiar than she should.

"Throttle."

With his two patrons pretty well take care of, Duncan went to the other end of the bar to help Abbi wash and dry glasses.

"So…what warrants a transfer to 'No Man's Land'?" Throttle asked as he slowly swirled the contents of his glass while watching Anya subtly out of the corner of his eye—knowing that he would have found her beautiful even when sober.

Anya remained silent for several moments as she refilled her glass before finally turning towards Throttle. "Throttle…you're a livin', breathin' male…can I ask you something?"

Throttle blinked at the sudden change in conversation, but gave a small sigh of resignation. "Sure, go ahead."

"Good…maybe you can give me an answer, because frankly I can't figure it out. _Why_ will a man make the effort to get a girl's attention and make her _want_ to go out with him…then make her feel like a giddy school girl in love for a whole week…only to have him turn around and blatantly cheat on that girl with any whore that'll open her legs for him?" Anya's body shook with rage as she downed her shot before slamming her glass down hard on the bar. "Seriously…_what_ makes a man do that?"

Throttle sighed heavily. "Mainly because they're not _men_…just boys without a clue." He sipped his shot this time. "Seriously though…I dunno what makes certain males act like that. I mean, I've known some that act like that…but they could never give me a reason as to why." He sighed again and took a thoughtful sip of his drink. "But that all stopped after the invasion…they've all found women and settled down without any in…intent…without any thought of cheatin'." It was Throttle's turn to tremble now, and he set his jaw as he tightly gripped his glass. "Then again, watching every last female of your species die in front of you tends to make you appreciate what they've got." He turned his head towards Anya and refreshed her glass. "So this transfer was all because of a boy?"

"Fuckin' sonuvabitch," Anya growled. "He _knew_ how vulnerable I was…I told him right off the bat that he was the first man I'd be seein' since my husband died…that I wasn't ready to rush into the sack. He said he was fine with all that…no surprise seein' as how he was fucking everything female that moved behind my back," Anya snarled before downing her shot. "Oh, an' get this…he didn't even have the decency to look sorry or ashamed when I finally caught him in the act."

"You shittin' me?" Throttle asked.

"I shit you not," Anya replied. "He didn't even try one of those lines…you know, like 'this isn't what it looks like', or 'are you going to believe what you see or what I tell you?'."

"Did he say anything at all?" Throttle asked as he downed the rest of his shot before refilling both his glass and Anya's.

"Oh, yeah…" Anya answered as she slowly swirled the contents of her glass. "He just looked at me an' said 'I dunno why yer makin' such a big deal about this, babe…we _gotta_ repopulate the species'. Oh, an' get this…he didn't even stop fuckin' the girl he was with…he just kept right on with it the whole time he was lookin' at me an' talkin' to me."

Throttle could not stop the low growl from rumbling deep in his throat. "That fuckin' waste of hair an' teeth," he slurred with an underlying snarl. "What does he look like? If I ever see 'im, I'm gonna beat five shades of red outta him."

Anya turned on her stool and rested an arm on the bar as she regarded Throttle—seeing him truly for the first time that night. Even through her haze of alcohol, she could see he was handsome. Granted, she had never come across an ugly Martian, but Throttle seemed to be a cut above the rest. "Now _why_ would you go an' do a thing like _that_?"

"Because a man who goes around fuckin' other women when he's already got a woman like _you_ needs to have some sense knocked into him," Throttle snarled—his tail swishing angrily. "My people _truly _know the value of having a female because we're face to face with our own extinction, and it pisses me off to see some idiot Earthling burning his way through such valuable an' precious commodities."

Anya could not stop the small smile from tugging at the corners of her mouth. "That was actually kind of sweet."

"It's the truth," Throttle added. "Believe you me, Anya…you take that pretty red head of yours to a mixer, an' some Martian'll snatch you up so fast it'll make yer head spin."

"Well, that's always good to know," Anya said noncommittally. In all honesty, she was almost completely turned off to dating and was determined not to throw herself back into that pool until the pain of being spurned stopped hurting so much. Having dated, married and truly loved only one man in her life, Anya was not used to the bitter sting of rejection and betrayal.

"Alright…so what exactly led to you comin' here?" Throttle asked. "You break the mother fucker's legs?"

"Nah…not even anything as poetic as to rippin' his dick off," Anya said with a shake of her head. "Nah, I went into his room an' got all his stuff while he was out…went to the surface then set it all on fire." She grinned. "Then I stole his bike's A.I. chip."

Throttle blinked. "You did what?"

Still grinning, Anya reached into her pocket and drew out a large microchip.

Throttle grinned and chuckled. "Well, that's one way of rippin' off a guy's dick. Good job, Red."

"Yeah, well…the colonel didn't think so," Anya said with a heavy sigh. It was _that_ sting of betrayal that hurt the most—the fact that her uncle had sided with the one who had wronged her. "So I ended up here."

"What squadron you in?" Throttle asked.

"Red," Anya answered. "I'm the new leader."

Throttle gave a small nod and smile of acknowledgment. "We'll be going out on patrols together then. I'm in charge of the Gold Squadron an' we're paired up with you." He blinked. "Hey, that means your room's right next to mine…used to belong to Frank. It'll be nice to have a quiet neighbor for once instead of havin' to hear him with a new girl every night." He grinned and laughed softly. "I do _not_ envy you the smell."

Anya groaned and allowed her forehead to fall onto the bar with a soft thud. "Fuck, don't remind me about that! I'd almost forgotten about it!" She fell silent for a moment. "Wait…a different girl every night? Oh, crap! I just hope I don't catch something from sleeping in his sheets. I mean, I washed 'em, but who knows if I got rid of whatever germs an' stuff that might've been in 'em?"

Still grinning, Throttle reached over and patted Anya on the shoulder. "Don't worry…so long as it doesn't burn when you pee, you'll be fine."

Anya slowly raised her head and regarded Throttle silently before reaching under the bar when Duncan had placed Throttle's Sothern Comfort, grabbing the bottle and sliding off the stool before making her way for the door. "Do me a favor and find some matches, will ya?"

"Why? Where you goin'?" Throttle asked in genuine confusion.

"To the surface to burn my sheets," Anya answered flatly. "And while I'm at it, the _mattress_!"


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you everyone who's been reading my fic, and thank you so very much all of you who reviewed the last chapter! I love hearing from my readers, and I do accept anonymous reviews, so please don't be shy :)

**inuficcrzy:** You're so sweet! Thank you so much for pointing people in the direction of my fic! XD

******MorbidCrow:** As always, my dearest friend, thank you so much for letting me bounce ideas off of you. *huggles* You rock!

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters that you will find in this story, nor do I own anything else pertaining to Biker Mice from Mars (unfortunately -,-). I also don't own the character of Duncan who belongs to fellow FF/net member, and my very dear friend, MorbidCrow. However, all other OCs belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

* * *

_'I've got my head, but my head is unraveling.  
Can't keep control, can't keep track of where it's traveling.  
I've got my heart, but my heart is no good,  
and you're the only one who's understood.'  
__  
-The Perfect Drug by NIN_

_…On the surface; two weeks later…_

As Throttle raced through the chaos of the battlefield on Lady through the dark night, the combination of his black bike and his black trench coat flapping behind him in the wind like a pair of giant wings made him appear like a bird of prey or even an angel of death. As he let loose with a barrage of rockets from Lady's launchers upon the Plutarkian horde before grabbing his blaster pistol from his left leg, the tan-furred Martian found that he did not mind either image. After all, he was bound and determined to bring death to as many Plutarkians as he could before he either met his own end or the war was over…

Whichever came first.

And Throttle was very good at his job. Whether it was by blaster, rocket or his own bare hands, Throttle made every Plutarkian regret the day that he or she had been hatched. Many had been the time that Vinnie or another member of his squadron had to pull him off the bloody and broken pulp that had once been a living and breathing Plutarkian. Five years ago, Throttle would have shuddered at such behavior. It went against everything he believed in as well as who he was.

Throttle had always prided himself on his cool head and his naturally calm and patient nature. It was why so many people had looked to him as a leader and why he so seamlessly had risen to positions of command. He was a natural leader, and people always followed him without question because they knew his every plan was calculated and well thought out. But war has a nasty habit of changing people...

Five years ago, Throttle was merciful in his killing of Plutarkians. His blaster shots were always quick killing shots. He remembered how it had felt to hover between life and death as he, Modo, Stoker and Vinnie had in the explosion that cost them all part of their bodies. Five years ago, Throttle would not have wished that even upon his worst enemies. But that had been a kinder and gentler Throttle. That Throttle was gone, and in his place was a man who took great pleasure in delivering pain and agony before finally bestowing the gift of death.

It was all for Carbine.

While Throttle had been unable to save his lover, he could at _least_ make damn sure that those responsible for her death paid for their crimes a hundred times over in blood. For every drop of Martian blood that had been spilt since the nightmarish day that lived within the minds of all of the surviving Martian males, Throttle would spill a hundred times more Plutarkian blood before he met his end.

And he would do it without the comfort of a female.

For Throttle did not believe he deserved one. No…not when he had watched impotently while the one he had loved above all others had been put down like a stray dog. He had been unable to protect and save Carbine, so he did not get to have another woman. He did not—

Throttle's eyes widened behind his shades as a series of blaster shots suddenly cut across in front of his nose, and his head snapped to the right to see Anya—he would recognize her red hair flying behind her like a battle pennant from under her red helmet anywhere—riding beside him with her blaster still in her hand and aimed. "What the fuck, Red?" Though they were on a first name basis, he would still call her the very first name he ever called her on occasion.

"Would you rather I let that oversized anchovy get you?" Anya asked pointedly as she gestured back with her pistol. "You're lucky Valkyrie is as fast as she is…I was able to break formation with my squad and race over here just in time."

Throttle glanced over his left shoulder to see the smoldering and broken remains of the Plutarkian and his crashed dune buggy. "Oh…well you could've warned me," he growled.

"Oh, whatever! I _so_ saved your tail, admit it!" Anya paused to let loose with a barrage of blaster shots straight ahead of her then swerved Valkyrie out of the way of the dune buggy that spun and rolled out of control with its driver dead now behind the wheel.

"Alright, fine! I admit it," Throttle growled.

"Damn straight, you do," Anya said with a grin. "You owe me, Shades. Say thank you with chocolate and gifts."

Despite the situation, Throttle found himself chuckling behind his helmet. It had been two weeks since Anya had arrived, but to Throttle it felt as though the red head had always been there. Though her first night in L.A. was a bit rocky, Anya had nevertheless made herself quite at home in her new surroundings as well as within her new squadron. She had proven herself to be a more than competent leader—calm under pressure and quick on her feet.

In the two weeks since the red head's arrival, she and Throttle had become comrades in arms, occasional drinking buddies, and Anya had also saved Throttle's hide more times in the past two weeks than the tan-furred Martian cared to count. In fact, Throttle would have been lying if he said that he did _not _consider Anya to be a friend. "Yeah, right…chocolate and gifts. Soon as the war is over I'll get right on that," he said dryly. "How 'bout a drink, instead?"

"I'll think about it," Anya answered.

"Yeah, see that you do," Throttle answered with a grin and a chuckle before letting lose with another barrage of rockets along with Anya as a horde of Plutarkians raced towards them—engulfing them in an inferno of explosive fire and shrapnel.

"We make a pretty good team, Shades," Anya said with a grin behind the visor of her helmet before giving Throttle a small salute and turning her bike around to join back up with her squadron.

"Yeah…Throttle agreed softly as he briefly watched Anya ride off before turning his focused gaze back to the task at hand. "We sure as Hell do."

* * *

_…Computer lab; later…_

"Alright," Jaxx said with a grin—her eyes sparkling as her fingers flew effortlessly over the keyboard in front of her. "This bitch is _toast_!" With that, her grin grew and she hit the final in a series of keystrokes before throwing her arms up in the air. "Victory!"

"Woo! You go girl!"

"Awesome!"

"Good job!"

"Damn straight, good job," Jaxx said with a triumphant smile before jumping to her feet. "I am _all_ that is woman!"

"No one's denying that, Jaxx," a red-furred Martian with a missing left ear said with a chuckle. "Now go on and send those Plutarkian sons of bitches your little package.

"Got it, boss," Jaxx said as she hurriedly sat back down in her chair and hit another series of keys. "And…._boom_ goes the dynamite! Take that, you anchovy bitches! You just got pwned by a girl!" Jaxx proceeded to do a little victory dance in her chair.

"Alright, Jaxxon," the red-furred supervisor said as he rested a hand on the lithe brunette's shoulder. "Real good job today, but now you're done. Your relief just got here. Go on and grab some food then rest those fingers and brain of yours for tomorrow. I need you sharp."

Jaxx grinned confidently up at her supervisor before standing. "Aw, c'mon, Byron…I can do this with my eyes closed."

"I have no doubt of that," Byron said with a chuckle. "But I want you working on that cyber virus of yours."

Jaxx blinked. "You sure, boss? I mean, do you really want to take me off the 'front'?"

Byron nodded. "I'm sure. We've got plenty of cyber-geeks here to stave off any Plutarkian computer attacks, but you're one of if not my _top_ mind, and I want you working completely and fully on the virus you've been playing around with. It could be our chance to really cripple those fishy bastards and give us the upper hand."

"You got it, boss," Jaxx said with a nod. "See ya tomorrow," she said before turning on her heel and striding for the exit. Knowing that Rimfire would be arriving soon from his patrol, the lithe brunette set off in the direction of the garage hanger as was her normal routine after getting off from work. As always, Jaxx hoped and prayed that her lover would be alive and well instead of either being rushed to the medical bay, or even worse…

Inside a body bag.

Jaxx shuddered at that thought and had to wrap her arms round her lithe figure to stave off the chill that always came with the thought of losing her beloved. So far, Jaxx had been lucky in her prayers. In the time she and Rimfire had been together, the young Martian had only come back to base with minor flesh wounds, and Jaxx counted her blessings for that every day. She knew that not all women were so lucky in having their significant others return to them in such good condition.

The sight of a familiar figure out of the corner of her eye caused Jaxx to look to the left before changing her direction and quickening her pace. "Hey Sydney," she greeted with a smile as she dropped an arm around the older woman's shoulders—not a difficult feat since they both stood at the exact same height of 5'10". "How's it going, fellow nerd?" Jaxx asked playfully with a grin.

Sydney, who had been lost in her own thoughts and scribbling away madly in a notebook, started a little at the sudden contact and greeting that pulled her from whatever she had been working through in her head. "Hmm? Oh, hello Jaxx," she greeted with a small smile. "Sorry, I was miles away."

"Eh, don't worry about it," Jaxx said with a small wave of her hand. "Where you off to?"

"My lab," Sydney answered while absently tapping the page of her notebook that was covered with complex and intricate equations with her chewed up pencil. "Some combinations came to me while Stoker and I were having dinner…"

Jaxx grinned and chuckled. "Yeah…I can see how that would happen. God, what I wouldn't give for a bacon cheeseburger and chili fries…oh, and a double-chocolate milkshake! That's going to be the first thing I get the second farms and commerce are up and running again when the war is over. Screw organic food and all the other health-conscious crap that our pre-war society kept trying to jam down our throat. I want something fatty, delicious and fully of flavor after what we've been forced to eat these past five years. What about you, Syd? What's going to be the first thing you eat once all of this is over and things are back to normal?"

"Carrot cake," Sydney answered without so much as a second thought. "A giant wheel of carrot cake. In any case, I wanted to hurry down to the lab and try these combinations out and see if they'll be as effective as I hope they will."

"Yeah, well…just don't work too late, okay?" Jaxx said as she removed her arm.

"I won't," Sydney answered absently as she went back to her notes and began walking off in her original direction. "Stoker said he would come for me in twenty minutes…"

Jaxx chuckled and fondly shook her head as she watched the older woman go, but she did not linger long and was soon back on her way through the dimly-lit tunnels to the garage. Upon arrival and stepping into the large cavern by way of the side door, she arrived just in time to see the squadrons return just as their replacements rode out. As always, Jaxx stood back to allow the returning forces room to park their bikes all the while she scanned the crowds for Rimfire. With his multi-colored hair, her beloved was not difficult to spot and within a few minutes, she saw him emerging through the crowed while gingerly rotating his shoulder.

Jaxx wasted no time in running towards Rimfire, and upon reaching him she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. "Hey, baby…you okay?"

Rimfire tightly wrapped his non injured arm around Jaxx and held her close while nuzzling her dark hair. "Yeah…I'm okay, beautiful. I just took a spill, is all. I'll be a little stiff in the morning, but I'll live." He brushed a lingering kiss to his lover's forehead. "I love you so much."

Before Jaxx could answer, her attention was drawn away from Rimfire to the sounds of angry and agitated voices, and she shared a groan with her lover when she recognized the voices involved…

Throttle, Modo and Vinnie.

"Oh, come on already," Rimfire breathed with a heavy sigh as he listened on as his uncle and Vinnie tried to talk Throttle out of drinking himself to sleep yet _again_. "_He's_ gonna do whatever the fuck he wants and there's _nothing_ that those two can do about it. When are they gonna realize that?"

Jaxx sighed softly and nestled into Rimfire as she watched the three Martians argue. "It's what happens when two unmovable forces meet," she answered. "They keep knocking into each other until one of them finally crumbles."

"C'mon, babe," Rimfire breathed heavily as he watched as what was once an angry argument turn into a shoving match. "I can't watch this again…" That said, he led his chosen mate out of the hanger and into the darkened tunnels before proceeding towards their quarters.

Meanwhile, back in the hanger, things were quickly escalating out of hand.

"Back the fuck off, Vincent," Throttle snarled after shoving the white-furred Martian aside. "I'm goin' to the bar and there's _nothing_ you can do about it."

"Maybe not by himself, but _I'm_ sure as Hell getting' tired of you drinkin' your life away, Throttle," Modo said with an underlying growl as his tail swished in agitation. "This isn't who ya are, Throttle."

"Fuck off, Modo," Throttle growled.

"No, Throttle," Modo growled as he narrowed his one good eye at his friend and comrade while taking a step closer to him. "You're gonna listen, and you're gonna listen _good_! Do you think this is what _she_ would want? Do you think this is what _Carbine_ would want for you? What d'ya think she'd say if she could see you right now? You're a shell of who you used to be, Throttle, and you're a disgrace to Carbine's memory."

It was with an enraged roar that Throttle launched himself at Modo and let lose with a barrage of punches and kicks. "FUCK YOU, MODO!" he bellowed as he pounded on the gentle giant—so blinded by rage that he did not stop to care that he was attacking his best friend.

"Truth hurts, don't it, bro?" Modo growled as he threw Throttle off and readied himself for another attack—his tail swishing angrily.

Vinnie watched with wide eyes as Throttle launched himself at Modo once more—unable to believe that Modo had actually come out and said what he had said. Granted, the gentle giant was not alone in what he said—the rest of their motley family shared the same view—but to actually come out and say it to Throttle's face like that? It only spoke to just how much at the end of his rope Modo was. So desperate was the gentle giant to reach his friend through his haze of self-loathing and melancholy that he resulted to a bluntness that his mother would never have approved of.

And now Throttle and Modo were beating the shit out of each other.

Vinnie could not allow that! They had lost too much already. He could _not_ allow their friendship…their _brotherhood_ to fall apart, and it was with that thought in mind that the white-furred Martian leapt at his two closest friends and tried to pry them apart—kicking and punching as he tried to get between the two of them. "Guys, c'mon!" He groaned as he caught one of Throttle's punches right in the gut.

Anya had just finished a cursory overview of her squadron—taking in the injuries and determining who was fit to report for duty the next night and who needed to recover in the hospital. However, as she turned and hung her helmet neatly from one of Valkyrie's handlebars, she could already hear the sounds of the fight before she even saw it. It was not the first squabble she had seen occur between the three Martians in question, but it was by far the worst. For a brief moment, she thought Vinnie would have it under control, but then she saw him get sucked into the fight rather than pull his two comrades out.

"Oh, Hell's bells," Anya growled softly under her breath before taking off at a dead sprint across the hangar before reaching the three fighting Martians. "Alright, that's it!" Anya barked as she pushed her way between the warring Martians and pushed them apart to the best of her ability and found it to be far more difficult than she had originally anticipated. Strong for a girl, she was still going up against three Martians with about seven hundred pounds of muscle between them and at that moment, they were all seeing red. "Enough is enough, guys! Break it up _now_! I mean-" She was cut off when Throttle's fist connected with her jaw, and her eyes widened in shock as she spun a little before managing to regain her footing moments before she would have fallen over.

Behind his shades, Throttle's eyes doubled in size. Having been in mid swing when Anya had stepped between him and his bros and pushed them apart, he had not been able to stop the momentum of his punch as he was shifted just enough off balance to change the trajectory of the hit. As such, Throttle had watched in horror as his fist connected with Anya's feminine jaw in seemingly slow motion—even gasping before wincing as he heard the audible crack of bone connected with bone. That sound was enough to shock Throttle out of his blinding rage and bring him back into the reality of the present.

Because of the change in angle, Throttle had only clipped the red head, but there was still a great amount of force behind the punch—not enough to knock out teeth or actually break her jaw, but enough to leave a nasty bruise that would last for at least two weeks. "Oh, shit!" He took a step towards Anya—stopping dead in his tracks when the red head slowly turned and regarded him with a look that would have melted lava—an angry bruise already forming upon her already swollen jaw. "Oh…fuck me sideways…" he breathed softly as he took a step backwards. "Anya…Anya, I'm sorry," he said as he raised both hands in a placating manner. "Anya, I didn't mean it. It was an accident. I didn't—"

"You sonuvabitch!" Anya snarled before leaping at Throttle with a wordless shriek and delivering punch after punch wherever she was able to reach.

Having never been the type to hit females, Throttle was trying his utmost to block Anya's punches while desperately trying to restrain her at the same time, but it was proving to be more difficult than he thought it would be. Anya was a wildcat when she was angry! "Ow! Oh, shit Anya quit it!"

"What? You can dish it out, but you can't take it?" Anya demanded with a wicked grin as she jumped up onto Throttle's back and yanked on his dreadlocks. "Not so nice when you're on the receiving end of a needless beating, is it?"

"I _said_ I was sorry!" Throttle protested.

"_Sorry_? Not as sorry as you're _gonna _be! Why don't you try apologizing to Modo and Vinnie while you're at it?" Anya bellowed.

Vinnie looked on in slack-jawed shock as he watched Throttle try to pull Anya off his back while at the same time taking care not to hurt her. In all of his years of knowing Throttle, he had _never _seen this happen. Not even Carbine had put Throttle in that situation, and the white-furred Martian could not help but imagine the former general's spirit laughing from wherever she was as the scene that managed to be both tragic and hysterical play out. "Dude…it's like watching him get beat up by a hobbit or something…"

Modo threw back his head and laughed and was soon joined by the others in the crowd that had gathered around to watch the strange scene. "Yeah…I think he's met his match."

Just for a few moments, Throttle thought he had the upper hand as he reached behind and grabbed a hold of Anya's leg before pulling her off his back, but his victorious grin soon faded into a pained expression as the red head grabbed a hold of his braids and dreadlocks and clung to them tightly as though they were a lifeline. "Ow! Get off me you, little hellcat!"

"You ain't seen _nothin'_ yet, Shades," Anya said with a wide grin. "I've not yet _begun _to unleash my fury on you! Just you wait 'til I make a rug outta you!"

_"Guys_?" Throttle all but begged as he looked to Modo and Vinnie before spinning in a circle as he tried to get a better hold on Anya to he could dislodge her—finding it increasingly difficult when the red head wrapped her legs around his waist from behind. "_Help_! Help me!"

Vinnie looked up at Modo with a grin and crossed his arms over his chest. "Whaddya say, big guy? Should we save him from the scary, little girl?"

Modo grinned and crossed his own arms over his chest while standing in a relaxed manner that showed that he had no intention of moving at that precise moment. "Sure…just not _yet_."

"You sure, bro?" Vinnie asked as a look of genuine worry crossed his face. "She's got a _lot_ of rage."

"Don't worry," Modo said with a sigh. "We'll step in right before she kills him."


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you everyone who's been reading my fic, and thank you so very much all of you who reviewed the last chapter! I love hearing from my readers, and I do accept anonymous reviews, so please don't be shy :)

Sorry for the delay, but my new job has been keeping me rather busy and drained as of late -,-

******MorbidCrow:** As always, my dearest friend, thank you so much for letting me bounce ideas off of you. *huggles* You rock!

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters that you will find in this story, nor do I own anything else pertaining to Biker Mice from Mars (unfortunately -,-). I also don't own the character of Duncan who belongs to fellow FF/net member, and my very dear friend, MorbidCrow. However, all other OCs belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter 5  
**

* * *

_"You've been actin' awful tough lately...  
smokin' a lot of cigarettes lately.  
But inside, you're just a little baby."_

_-'I Am Not a Robot' by Marina & the Diamonds_

_…Throttle's room; the next afternoon…_

_"So…you got your tail handed to you by a female…and not just any female, but an Earthling female." Carbine threw back her head and laughed. "Most definitely not your finest moment."_

Throttle was dreaming. He knew that well enough as he reclined against a large rock on Mars looking the way it looked before the Plutarkians ever attacked, but that did not mean that he could not take in the sight of his dead beloved against the background of his once beloved planet and wish that they were both real…

That everything was back to the way it was before all Hell broke loose.

How Throttle longed to run his fingers through Carbine's long, raven tresses like he used to. How he longed to bury his face in the soft fur of Carbine's neck and breathe in her scent as he held her close…

This was why he drank every night.

It was all so he could pass his night in peaceful slumber and not be haunted by the love that he could not save. In an inebriated state, Throttle's mind remained a blank slate—too sluggish to hold any real thoughts or memories. But after having punched Anya, Throttle had been too ashamed to crawl into his usual bottle of comfort. After all, it had been a fight about his drinking that had led to his punching of Anya. In all his life, Throttle had never hit a woman, and even though the incident had been accidental, the tan-furred Martian had felt lower than low afterwards.

_ "What was I supposed to do? Hit a girl? On purpose this time? You know I don't do that. I'd never do that."_

_"Yeah, I know," Carbine said with a soft smile—her dark eyes soft as she gazed upon her love. "That's one of the reasons I fell in love with you, Throttle. I know I didn't say it often, but I loved you with every fiber of my being. You're a good man and you always were…one of the best I've ever known." She frowned. "Until now that is."_

_"What're you talking about? I'm still me."_

_"The Throttle I knew and loved would never let himself fall as far as you have. "_

_"What the fuck would you have me do, Carbine?" Throttle growled._

_"Do your grieving and then move on," the raven-haired Martian said simply as she crossed her arms over her chest and peered down at Throttle._

_"Move on?" Throttle asked incredulously. "How can I move on? How am I supposed to move on when I saw you murdered in front of me?"_

_"On your feet, soldier," Carbine ordered firmly as she pulled Throttle up from his seated position and tightly gripped his shoulders. "Now you listen to me, and you listen good. This behavior has to stop. Not only is it detrimental to you, but it puts everyone else at risk as well."_

_Now on his feet, Throttle gazed down at his departed lover and grinned ruefully. "You can order me all you want, Carbine…but the fact that you're dead kind of puts a kink in the chain of command, don't you think?"_

_"Does it really?" Carbine asked as she tilted her head to the side. "If that were the case, you wouldn't be holding onto my memory with such a death grip."_

_Throttle was silent for several moments as he simply smoothed a hand over Carbine's hair—the former general's one vanity. "What else would you have me do? I loved you, Carbine…I still do. You were the love of my life…the one woman that I wanted to settle down and have a family with. You were my whole world. What am I supposed to do now? What am I supposed to do now that you're gone?"_

_Carbine smiled gently. "Let me go," she said softly._

_"I can't."_

_"You have to, Throttle. You have to let me go and make room in your heart for another."_

_"No."_

_"Throttle, I'm five years dead and I'm not coming back. Nothing is going to change that. You can blame yourself for my death all you want, but the truth is that it wasn't you're fault. There was nothing you could have done."_

_"Every one looks to me as a leader…what kind of a leader am I when I couldn't even save my woman?" Throttle asked bitterly. "I don't deserve another woman after that…not after I failed you like that."_

_Carbine sighed softly and gently cupped Throttle's face in her palms. "No one leader is perfect, Throttle. As much as it hurt you then, and as much as it may still hurt you now, you must accept my death as a casualty of war."_

_"You could never be just a casualty to me," Throttle said firmly._

_"Be that as it may, you have to let me go, Throttle. Let me go and move on," Carbine whispered as she began to slowly vanish from Throttle's sight._

_Throttle's eyes widened and he grabbed desperately for his love—his fingers clawing madly at the air as Carbine became evermore transparent. "Carbine, no! Don't leave me! DON'T LEAVE ME AGAIN!"_

_Even after she had vanished completely from Throttle's sight, her voice still hung in the air like a thin mist. "Let me go, Throttle…you have to let me go..."_

Throttle sat bolt-upright in his bed—completely ignoring the residual aches in his body from Anya's earlier assault. His eyes were wide in the darkness of his room as tears flowed freely from his eyes and formed dark trails down his cheeks. He frantically searched the shadows of his room as though hoping to find Carbine miraculously alive, but was meat only with the cold disappointment of his reality. Alone, and with his already aching heart throbbing with the pain of having Carbine ripped from him yet again, all Throttle could do was bury his face in his knees after drawing them to his chest and weep into the sheets—the muscled bulk of his body trembling in the wake of his anguish.

* * *

_…Sydney's lab…_

"Alright," Sydney said with a small smile as she pulled the needle out of Anya's arm. "You're all set. So…who's the lucky Martian?"

"Oh, no one yet," Anya said as she lowered her sleeve. "But since I've pretty much sworn off human men, that leaves Martians…and if their swimmers are as strong as everyone says they are, then I figure it's best to be prepared."

"Makes sense," Sydney said with a small nod before striding to the nearest waste bin and disposing of the used needle. "The serum takes a day to work itself into your system, so I'd hold off on finding Mr. Right until tomorrow around this time," she said with a soft chuckle. "Maybe even a little later just to be safe."

"Don't worry," Anya said with a wry grin. "I don't think that even a Martian is desperate enough to go for a woman with a face that looks like a grape," she said as she pointed to her darkly bruised jaw.

Sydney smiled softly. "You might be surprised. Facing the possible demise of your species because all of your species' females have been exterminated tends to make a man appreciate the females available to him. "

"Huh…well, that's a concept that makes Martians all the more appealing," Anya said with a wistful grin.

"Either way, you might want to stop by the medical hanger and get that bruise checked out," Sydney said with concern. "With a bruise like that, it's actually amazing your jaw isn't wired shut."

"I went by the medical bay last night pretty much right after this happened," Anya answered as she stood from her chair. "Trust me…this is way better than how it was looking last night. At least I don't look like a Vito Corleone reject anymore."

Sydney blinked before giving a small shake of her head. "Yikes…was it _that_ bad?"

"Oh, yeah," Anya said with a nod. "But the one of the on-duty nurses hooked me up with a shot of cortisone that worked wonders. She was really nice too…although I thought it was hysterical that she was acting like a mother hen when she couldn't have been a year older then me."

Sydney blinked. "Was she tall, blond and kind of frazzled?"

"Yeah, actually she was," Anya said with a nod.

Sydney smiled fondly. "That would be Emily Maverick. She's Modo's wife and she's a mother hen to _everybody_."

Anya chuckled softly. "I see. Well, in any case…thanks for the shot," she said as she started for the door. "See you again in six months, right?"

"Right," Sydney said with a nod.

"Alright. Thanks again," Anya said before stepping out into the dimly-lit corridor. She had some time to kill before she had to go out on patrol, so she opted to quiet the ever-persistent growl of her stomach and made her way towards the Mess Hall. While it was not the best food—actually, it was quite awful—it was sustenance nonetheless and it kept her and the others going. Finding a line when she reached the hall, the red head took her place while grabbing a tray as she silently waited for her turn in the line. Feeling like she was back in high school as she stood in line with her tray, Anya could not help but marvel at how her stomach continued to growl on a daily basis even though it knew the sort of food it would be getting.

"God, what I wouldn't give for some biscuits and gravy…or corned beef hash," Anya muttered under her breath as she moved forward in the line before watching the cafeteria lady ladle masses of different textures and colors onto her plate. "Can I have an extra side of brown, please?" she asked cheekily.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph, hun," the cafeteria lady said with wide eyes once she looked up and took one look at the dark, swollen bruise that was Anya's jaw. "You okay?"

"Huh? You mean this?" Anya asked as she motioned to her jaw—not daring to touch the still tender area. "This is nothin', ma'am…you should see the other guy," she said with as cocky a grin as she could manage with her jaw in its swollen state.

"Yeesh," the woman said with a small shake of her head. "You look like you went five rounds with a Martian and lost."

"It was _one_ round," Anya corrected with her attempted grin still in place. "And I _didn't_ lose." Modo and Vinnie had taken their sweet time in prying her off of Throttle, so Anya had landed more than her fair share of good kicks and punches.

The cafeteria lady blinked and simply stared at Anya for a moment before giving her head another small shake. "Well…props to you, hun. You want me to find a straw for you or something?"

"Nah, I can manage," Anya said with a dismissive wave of her hand before taking her tray. "You have yourself a nice day, now," she said as she turned on her heel, grabbed a cup of coffee and made for the nearest empty chair—ignoring the curious looks she got from those she passed by. Most of them were grabbing a meal after just having finished with their shifts, and they had no idea as to what had happened to lead up to Anya's current appearance—they having been asleep at the time it had occurred.

Sighing, as she found a chair down at the end of one of the long tables that filled the cafeteria, Anya pulled the chair away from the table with her ankle while she placed her tray down on the table. She then lowered herself into the chair and contented herself to poking at her food with her fork. She groaned softly when her jaw began throbbing with a renewed wave of persistent pain—though it was considerably less than last night.

"Fuck," she muttered. "Just how am I supposed to get my helmet over my head?"

"Very carefully?"

Anya recognized Throttle's voice without even having to look up at him, but when she _did_ look up at him it was with an icy glare. "Care to try for round two?"

Knowing that his eyes were still bloodshot and raw from all his crying, Throttle was grateful for his shades as he moved so he was standing across from Anya—cup of coffee in one hand. "No…I've learned my lesson," he said with the smallest of chuckles. "I'm still sore from where your blows hit. You know…you sure pack a wallop for an Earthling woman of your size."

"Yeah, well…I was born and raised in Texas. We shoot first and ask questions later," Anya drawled while giving a small shrug of her shoulders. "And sometimes, we shoot first and just let God sort it out afterwards."

"I'll keep that in mind," Throttle said softly. "If it makes you feel any better, my whole body is one huge ache. Even though you can't see the bruises, I've till got them under my fur." As he spoke, he gingerly rubbed his sculpted stomach."

"Yeah…that kinda does make me feel better," Anya said with a wry grin as her eyes became unavoidably drawn to Throttle's abs—actually 'seeing' them for the first time. _Lord have mercy…I thought abs like that only existed on the covers of romance novels._

"Mind if I sit?" Throttle asked as he motioned to the chair directly across from Anya.

"Do what you want," Anya said with a small shrug as she gave herself a mental shake and pulled herself from her reverie. It's a free planet…for now anyway."

"Look," Throttle said with a sigh as he pulled the chair back and sat down. "I really am very sorry about that," he said as he motioned towards Anya's jaw. "I swear to you that it really _was _an accident. It's not like I go around hitting girls whenever I feel like it."

"Yeah, I know," Anya said with a sigh as she aimlessly toyed with her food. "You're a good man, Throttle…I can see it. You've just fallen on some hard times is all…as have we all." She sighed again, but softer this time. "You just seem to be taking it harder than most. Wanna talk about it?"

Throttle said nothing to that, and instead kept his eyes fixed to the table.

Anya sighed and took a much needed sip of coffee. "Alright, fine…don't say anything. Look, I'd like to think that we're still friends."

"Even after last night…or rather this morning?" Throttle asked as he raised his gaze just a little.

"Of course," Anya said with a nod. "Friends fight all the time…and then they forgive each other and move on with their lives."

"Yeah, well…I've never fought with a girl before," Throttle admitted. "Not like _that_ anyway," he said as he motioned to Anya's face. "I mean, I've argued with them, but I've never been involved in a fistfight with one before. If you were a guy, I'd know how to deal with it. But I don't know the protocol for what happens after hitting a girl." He sighed heavily. "I just know that I still feel like shit because of it."

Anya gave Throttle a small grin. "Well then, you're right in the ballpark, because feelin' like shit after hittin' a girl is _exactly _the right protocol, because if you feel good after somethin' like that, then there's somethin' _seriously_ wrong with you. Either way though, there's no need to beat yourself up about it anymore Throttle…especially since I beat you up plenty last night."

Throttle chuckled softly. "True…you did. You fight almost as good as any Martian female, and since they're stronger than most human males, you should take that as a compliment."

"Thanks, I will," Anya said with a smile. "Anyway…getting back to my original point, we're friends…and that means you can talk to me about what's bothering you…and I know that there's definitely something. Believe me when I say that I know what you're goin' through, but I'm also not goin' to force it out of you." She sighed softly. "These are the kinds of things that you just can't around beatin' out of somebody, and regardless of how I acted last night, I have enough sense to know that much. Just know that when you're finally ready to talk, my ears are open for you, okay? Of course, that means you'll have to listen to me too just to be fair."

Behind his shades, Throttle regarded Anya carefully—seeing her in a completely new light. Out on the field, she was 'one of the guys'—able to roll with whatever jokes came her way while shooting a Plutarkian between the eyes at ten paces without batting an eyelash. But here in this moment, he was able to see what he was usually too drunk to see when it was just him and Anya in a quiet corner of the bar. Beneath her fiery temper and dry, quick wit there was a kind, giving heart, and beneath her strength and bravado was a great vulnerability that caused Throttle's naturally protective nature to rise up within him. "Alright," he said with a soft smile as he sipped his coffee. "You've got a deal, Red."

"Good to know, Shades," Anya answered before taking a sip of her own coffee.

"Hey, look at that…you guys are talking again. That's great!" Vinnie said with a wide grin as he took the vacant seat at the end of the table and placed his tray down.

"Yep…I just can't stay mad at this big lug," Anya said with a grin before putting a forkful of food into her mouth and grimacing as she chewed. "Ew," she said after swallowing.

"What was that, the brown?" Vinnie asked.

"Yep," Anya answered before taking a sip of her coffee. "And just think, I asked for an extra side of it. God what was I thinking?" she asked with a groan.

"Stick the white," Vinnie said with a small grin. "It's bland with a side of bland. I think it's supposed to oatmeal."

"Bland is good," Anya said. "I can handle bland. It's moldy gym socks that I can't handle."

"It can't be _that_ bad," Throttle said with a grin as he sipped his coffee before finding himself presented with a forkful of the brown substance as Anya stood and leaned over the table a little.

"You don't believe me? Go ahead and try for yourself." Anya raised an eyebrow. "Go on, I dare ya."

Throttle raised an eyebrow. "Challenge accepted," he said as he leaned forward just enough to take the fork into his mouth. Once Anya had pulled it away however, Throttle felt his own face twitching into an expression similar to the one Anya had worn once the food made contact with his tongue. After the great effort that it took to swallow, the tan-furred Martian grinned sheepishly at the red head. "Okay, that _was_ pretty bad," he admitted before taking a long sip of coffee.

"Told ya so," Anya said with a chuckle before taking a mouthful of the white substance on her plate—wincing while she chewed. "I think I'd better go get another cortisone shot and see if it'll bring the swelling down some more, otherwise I won't be able to stand wearin' my helmet," she said after swallowing and pushing her chair back while simultaneously pushing her tray over to Throttle. "Enjoy," she said with a playful grin as she stood. "See you guys in a bit."

"See ya, Anya," Vinnie said.

"See ya, Red," Throttle said as he watched the red head go—unable to stop himself from noticing the hypnotic sway of Anya's hips or of just how well her jeans hugged them along with her...

"Dude…"

Throttle blinked and looked to Vinnie. "What?"

"Bro…you were _totally_ checking out Anya's ass right now," Vinnie said with a grin.

"No, I wasn't," Throttle protested hurriedly.

Vinnie's grin grew. "Bro…did you forget who you're talking to? I might be a happily married man, but I've checked out enough tail in my day to know when someone _else_ is doing it…and _you_, my friend, were _obviously_ checking out Anya's ass. Deny it all you want, Throttle. You're _so_ busted."

"Hey, bros," Modo greeted as he approached with his tray. "What's goin' on?"

"Throttle was checking out Anya's ass," Vinnie said with a triumphant grin.

"So help me, Vincent…" Throttle growled softly.

Modo grinned and clapped Throttle on the shoulder before moving around to sit across from him. "Welcome back to the land of the livin' bro."

Throttle groaned. "I was _not_ checking out Anya's ass," he said firmly.

"Dude, you trying to convince _us_ or yourself?" Vinnie asked with his grin still in place.

Behind his shades, Throttle glared silently at the white-furred Martian.

"And before that, you were eating off her fork," Vinnie added. "You've _so_ got a thing for her. Who would've thought an ass-whooping would make you fall head over heels?"

Modo blinked and stared at Throttle. "Wait, what? You two were sharin' a fork?"

"We were _not_ sharing a fork," Throttle said with a roll of his eyes. "I didn't believe her when she said the brown stuff tasted bad, so she dared me to try a forkful, and I did."

"Yeah," Vinnie said with a raised brow. "She held out _her_ fork and you ate off it."

"So?" Throttle asked.

"You could've taken the fork from her, bro," Vinnie said.

"Wait…you mean to tell me he ate off Anya's fork while she was still holding it?" Modo asked.

"Yep," Vinnie said as his grin widened even more. "She fed him."

"Naaaaaw, ain't that the cutest thing?" Modo asked with a grin before shoveling a mouthful of food into his mouth. "They'll planning their wedding before you know it."

Throttle groaned and rubbed his forehead to stave off the migraine he felt coming. "Guys, I'm warning you…don't go playing match-maker."

Modo sighed. "Alright, fine…we'll leave you two alone, but don't take too long before you stop runnin' from the truth."

"Huh?" Throttle asked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that though you may deny it now, you've obviously got a thing for that little spitfire," Modo said. "And don't look at me like that, you know I'm right. I also happen to know that there's a mixer not too far down the road, and Anya's quite the looker…believe me when I say that I've seen a _lot_ of our brethren checkin' her out even _with_ her bruised and swollen jaw, so what's to stop one of them from askin' her out _before_ the mixer? If you wait too long to pull your head outta your ass, then _she's_ gonna get snatched up by someone else, and _you're_ gonna go back to bein' a lonely, miserable, drunk sonuvabitch that no one wants to be around."

Throttle stared wordlessly at the gentle giant for several moments. "Why are you so keen on the two of us getting together?" he asked at last. "Why does it have to be _her_?" Though already in his heart, he knew the answer.

"Because she'll be good for you," Modo answered. "She's got the strength you need to pull you out of your five-year funk, and she doesn't put up with any of your shit. You saw that last night. _That's _the kind of woman you need." He sipped his coffee. "Not to mention, there's how the two of you are when you're together. There's a connection between the two of you…and she makes you smile."

"Yeah," Vinnie said with a nod. "When the two of you are together, you smile and laugh like you used to…even up on the surface fighting those overgrown anchovies. We've seen it."

Throttle said nothing but simply sighed. "Guys…I don't know if I'm ready. How can I be when I can still see Carbine in my head?"

"She won't be there forever, bro," Vinnie answered softly. "Not if you let her go."

"What if I can't?" Throttle asked softly.

"It's been five years, Throttle," Modo said gently. "It's time to put her to rest. I'm not sayin' you have to go ask Anya to marry you right this second, but you have to start taking steps so that you'll be ready to do that if you find that Anya _is _the one for you like we suspect she is." He sighed softly. "Carbine wouldn't want you spending the rest of your life alone, and you know it."

Throttle was silent for several moments as he simply stared down into the contents of his cup. "That's the thing," he said softly at last. "I've been holding onto her for so tightly for so long…I don't know _how_ to let her go."

Out of his depth with this particular subject, Modo looked to Vinnie. After all, the white-furred Martian had truly loved only one other woman before Charley, and she was taken so very suddenly from him without any sort of a trace.

Vinnie sighed softly. "Gradually replace her in your mind with another…her hair, her eyes, her body, her smile…replace them all. Then other things will follow…the sound of her voice…the way she smelled…but you can't fight it. You have to let it happen."

"Anya _does_ have a nice set of eyes," Throttle said after a few moments of thought. "I've never seen a shade of green like that before…"

Vinnie smiled. "There you go bro. That's a great start."


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you everyone who's been reading my fic, and thank you so very much all of you who reviewed the last chapter! I love hearing from my readers, and I do accept anonymous reviews, so please don't be shy :)

Sorry for the delay, but my new job has been keeping me rather busy and drained as of late -,-

**Lila:** I wasn't planning on rushing it ;3 Ask any of my readers...I loooooooooooooooooooooooove to torture *wicked grin*

******MorbidCrow:** As always, my dearest friend, thank you so much for letting me bounce ideas off of you. *huggles* You rock!

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters that you will find in this story, nor do I own anything else pertaining to Biker Mice from Mars (unfortunately -,-). I also don't own the character of Duncan who belongs to fellow FF/net member, and my very dear friend, MorbidCrow. However, all other OCs belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter 6  
**

* * *

_"I'll be there…  
close your eyes and you'll see me.  
Just call my name."_

_'Just Call My Name (I'll Be There)' – Blackmore's Night_

_…On the surface; a week later…_

It was bad…

_Extremely_ bad.

Worse than the shootout at the O.K. Corral had ever been.

Crouched behind the remains of a stone wall, Anya pressed her back against the hard surface and hoped it would hold up against the barrage of blaster fire and explosions. Advancing hard upon the Plutarkian line, she and her entire squadron had been forced to take cover behind the wall when it became more than apparent that neither further advancing upon the enemy nor retreating was possible under the heavy fire. So, from their hiding spot, Anya and her squadron had proceeded to fire upon the Plutarkian horde—fighting in close combat with those who had made it across the wall.

Not wishing to lose anymore fighters than she already had, Anya was determined to bring whatever fighters she had left home. However, in light of their current situation, it was becoming more and more of a passing fancy.

They were running out of projectile ammunition, their blasters were running out of charges, and the Plutarkians were showing no sign of moving onto another target. Simply put, if a solution did not present itself soon, Anya and her entire squadron would be added to the ever-growing list of deceased as their blood soaked the parched, war-torn ground.

"Commander, your orders?"

"We're sitting ducks here!"

"What do we do?"

"Shut up!" Anya barked as she made sure to keep her head low. "Despite what all y'all may think, our shitty situation has _not_ escaped my notice! Now be quiet! I'm tryin' to think! An' for Chrissake, keep your fuckin' bikes down on the ground!"

"This wall's not gonna hold up much longer!"

"I know!" Anya snarled. "Jenson, how many grenades do we have left?"

"Three!"

"Shit," Anya hissed under her breath just as a voice crackled in the earpiece of her comm.

"Commander Blaine, get your squadron out of there! Fall back!"

"Negative," Anya barked into her comm. just as the rapid fire began to die down. "We're pinned down! I repeat we're pinned down!"

* * *

At the temporary base-camp, Throttle clenched his jaw and 'white-knuckled' Lady's handlebars as he heard Anya's distressed voice crackle over the radio amidst the rapid fire that would no doubt prove to be her end. "We have to go in after them," he growled. "Their sitting ducks out there!"

"Negative," a black-furred Martian by the name of Aires said with a grim face. "We can't risk anymore troops…we've lost too many today as it is."

"The at least let loose with some rockets and missiles," Modo growled. "Yer sayin' you don't wanna lose any more troops, well then try to bring Red Squadron home."

"You know I can't do that," Aires growled in response. "We've got them all on the east front. Pulling them out of there would leave our troops there dead in the water, and even if I _did_ pull them out, they'd _never_ get here in time! Even the ones being controlled by the main base wouldn't be reconfigured in time to help."

"So what, Aires?" Vinnie snarled with narrowed eyes. "You're just gonna leave Red Squadron there? Do you know how many females are in the squadron? You're just _knowingly_ gonna let more females die? You're no better than the fucking Plutarkians!"

"Now you listen to me," Aires snarled as he rounded on Vinnie. "If you think I enjoy the idea of more females dying, then you've got another thing coming! My personal feelings aside, I can't ignore that going in to rescue Red Squadron would be suicide! It would be detrimental to the _rest_ of the resistance if we risked ourselves haphazardly like that. I'm truly sorry about your girlfriend, Throttle…but maybe it's best that you cut your losses."

"Bullshit," Throttle snarled as he revved Lady's engine to life. "You sit here and pretend you did everything you could, but _I'm_ not going to sit on my ass when I could've done something!"

"Commander Thorneboy, I _forbid_ you to take your squadron on this suicide mission," Aires growled.

"Then it's a good thing I didn't plan on taking them with me, isn't it? And for the record, she's _not_ my girlfriend," Throttle bit out before racing off at a break-neck speed. _Not yet anyway._

"Throttle!" Vinnie's voice crackled through his ear piece. "What're you doing?"

"Wait for us!" Modo bellowed.

"NO!" Throttle bellowed in response into his comm. while keeping his eyes fixed ahead of him "You two have wives who would kill me in the worst possible way if I came back without the two of you…I don't have anyone. No one'll miss me if I die here today, so if anyone's going to risk their life on a suicide mission, it's going to be me! I have to save her, guys," he said vehemently. "I couldn't save Carbine, but I'm going to make damn sure that Anya makes it home!"

"Throttle—" Vinnie attempted.

"I _have_ to save her!" Throttle snarled before cutting off contact with his friends. "I have to save her."

* * *

"Commander…it looks like they've stopped. Maybe we can make a break for it."

Anya turned just in time to see one of her soldiers sit up to look over the all. "ANDREA DON'T!" Her words were drowned by the sound of rapid fire moments before Andrea's head exploded like a grape—blood, bone and brain reduced to a splattering, red mist.

"FUCK!" was a unanimous scream from several squad members.

"Oh, God this is it! This is the end!"

"We're gonna die!"

"I'm never gonna see my wife and son again!"

"GET OUTTA OF THERE!" Modo's voice roared in Anya's ear.

"I repeat we're pinned down! We can't move!" It was then that Anya saw Throttle race by. "What the…?" She hurriedly switched channels on her comm. until she found the right one. "Throttle, in the _HELL _do you think you're doing?"

"Giving you and your squad the chance to get out of there!" Throttle's smoky voice crackled in Anya's ear. "_GO!_"

Anya chanced a look over the wall to see that the Throttle was drawing the gunfire away from them—the Plutarkians only too eager to gun down one of their long-sworn enemies. Her eyes widened in horror as she watched the tan-furred Martian riding evasively through a red sea of blaster beams. "YOU CRAZY-ASS MOUSE! GET BACK HERE!"

"COMMANDER, COME ON!" one of Anya's squad members cried. "Let's go!"

"Yeah, c'mon! Don't let his death be in vain!"

Turning, Anya saw her squad mates on their bikes and waiting for her to give the order; and as she turned her gaze back to Throttle all but sacrificing himself for her and her squad, she felt as though her heart were being trapped in a vice. She could _not_ let him die because of her. She _had_ to help him! "Go!" she ordered her troops as she righted Valkyrie and revved him to life. "Go on, get out of here!"

"But—"

Anya drew her blaster and aimed it at her squad—emerald eyes blazing. "Go, or I'll kill all y'all _myself_!" She waited only a moment to see if her words had any effect before she holstered her blaster and peeled out from behind the wall at full speed. "C'mon, baby boy…give it everything you've got," she said to Valkyrie who seemed to rev in agreement before allowing his own blasters to emerge and firing upon the Plutarkian horde in attempts to keep them off Throttle's tail.

"ANYA! What're you doing? GET BACK!" Having looked over his shoulder and expecting to see Vinnie and Modo there when he saw the blaster fire coming from behind him, Throttle's eyes had widened in shock and terror at seeing Anya there instead. "I'm trying to save you!"

"You think I'm going to just let you kill yourself to save me?" Anya cried into her comm. "Guess again!"

"Anya, so help me…! Get back or I'll—" Throttle was cut off when a rocket detonated in front of him and sent him flying one way and Lady the other.

Behind her visor, Anya's eyes doubled in size. "THROTTLE! C'mon, baby…FLOOR IT!" Leaning forward on Valkyrie to decrease wind resistance, Anya watched as Throttle's body descended back down to the ground and said a silent prayer that she would reach him in time. "C'mon…c'mon…almost there…." Ignoring the rapid blaster fire coming her way and trusting in Valkyrie to dodge and weave, she began sitting up as she drew closer to where Throttle would fall. "Almost…_there_!" Reaching out rapidly with her right hand, she grabbed a hold of Throttle's arm and pulled with all her might to swing him behind her onto Valkyrie. She felt a pop, and Anya howled in pain as a near-blinding pain radiated through her entire right arm. But it was not until she realized that she could not move her arm that Anya's eyes widened in horror.

Throttle allowed himself a moment of shock before shifting so he was sitting properly behind Anya. "Lady! Head back to base-camp!" he called to his bike before turning his attention to Anya. "Are you insane? You could've been killed and that would've made _all_ my actions here and now _completely_ moot!"

"Throttle! I can't move my arm! I need you to control the right handlebar!"

Glancing down, Throttle saw Anya's arm hanging limply and at an awkward angle at her side, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it had been dislocated –the weight of his muscled body combined with Valkyrie's momentum at the time of Anya's rescue no doubt being the arm's undoing. "On it," he said as he wrapped both his tail and his left arm around Anya's waist while his right had grabbed a hold of Valkyrie's handle. "You are _very_ frustrating, you know that? Bank left! We're turning around!"

"_WHAT_? Anya protested as she banked left and turned Valkyrie away from the horde. "_I'm_ frustrating?"

"Yeah, you are! You can't just let yourself be rescued, can you? You just _had_ to come charging after me with guns blasting! What is that, some kind of Earthling feminist crap?"

Anya's right eye twitched in annoyance and kept her from dwelling on the pain in her arm as well as how Throttle's sculpted chest and stomach felt against her back. "Oh, don't you _even_!" she snapped. "I have _no_ problem with bein' rescued! But I _do_ have a problem when the one doin' the rescuin' is blatantly tryin' to commit suicide!"

"I wasn't!" Throttle bellowed.

"Like _Hell_!" Anya snapped. "_One _Martian goin' up against the_ entire _horde? If that's not suicide, I dunno what is! So _naturally_, the princess _had_ to go rescue the knight because he didn't have enough sense to turn tail and run from the dragon!"

Before Throttle could retort, the remains of a building exploded to the left of them, and though he swerved to doge the heavy, flying debris, Valkyrie skidded out of control, and both he and Anya were sent flying off the bike. Wrapping his other arm around Anya, Throttle held her tightly to his body and bowed his head protectively over hers in attempts to shield her from the impact as much as possible. They landed hard, and Throttle grunted and groaned as they rolled for several feet—his body bearing the brunt of all the impact before they were forced to stop when his back was slammed into a wall. Throttle's vision swam before being engulfed in darkness as unconsciousness came.

Anya winced and bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming at the white-hot pain radiating through her arm. While Throttle had been the one to absorb most of the impact, Anya's arm had still been pinned painfully to her side as they had rolled for more feet than she had cared to count. "Ow…ow…_so_ much ow," she whined softly before shifting as best she could in Throttle's arms. "Throttle? Throttle, are you okay?" When she was met with no response, her heart raced in rising panic. "Oh, please…please don't be dead. I swear to God, Throttle…if you're dead, I'll kill ya." She moved her left hand up and placed it against Throttle's pulse and breathed a sigh of relief when she was rewarded with a strong, steady pulse. "Oh, thank God…"

Where it not for the screaming pain in her arm, Anya would have taken a moment to fully appreciate and revel in the feeling of Throttle's body pressed against hers. His arms were so strong as they held her to his chest, his fur was so soft, and he smelled so very good. But the pain in Anya's arm was not to be ignored, and so she pushed away from Throttle and shifted out of his grasp—wincing and whimpering softly when too much weight or pressure was put on her arm. Now on her knees, she took up a stick and gripped it between her teeth before taking a deep breath and pushing her shoulder back into place—screaming in agony around the stick. "Sonuva sonuvabitch!"

That done, Anya let out a shaky breath and tiredly sat down beside Throttle while gently rubbing her arm and shoulder and spitting the stick out of her mouth. Her moment of reprieve was unfortunately short-lived, and when she became aware of a large posse of Plutarkian's closing in around her and Throttle, she felt the color drain from her face. Even if she called Valkyrie and he reached them in time, there was no telling what kind of damage he had taken during the crash. There was no way of knowing that they would be able to outrun their pursuers. "Oh, shit…Throttle! Throttle, wake up!" she exclaimed as she shook the tan-furred Martian by his shoulder. "Wake up! C'MON!"

Throttle started awake and grabbed a hold of Anya's arm. "You okay?" he asked slightly groggily.

"I'm fine, but neither of us'll be if you don't get up and help me right now," Anya snapped as she pulled Throttle into a sitting position. "We've got company."

Behind his shades and visor, Throttle blinked then growled under his breath upon seeing the Plutarkian posse closing in around them. "Get behind me," he said as he rose to his feet and pushed Anya behind him.

"Like Hell I will," Anya snapped as she came out to stand beside Throttle with both of her blasters raised. "We're in this together, and in case you haven't noticed, you're outnumbered. You're gonna need all the help you can get."

Knowing this was not the time to argue, Throttle contented himself to growling low in his throat in frustration as he drew his own blaster. "Fine, just stay close." As if to reiterate his point, Throttle wrapped his tail tightly around Anya's waist and pulled her so her back was pressed against his. "I've got your back if you've got mine."

Anya could not help but smile. "Good to know."

"Look, boys…two insects who like to fight," one of the Plutarkians leered.

"This is gonna be fun."

"Don't kill the female…let's play with her first," another Plutarkian said while luridly licking his lips.

"Yeah, _then_ we'll kill her."

Throttle snarled and bore his teeth. "Over my dead body."

* * *

Back at the base camp, Aires look incredulously at Modo and Vinnie. Having jumped channels to try and find Throttle to order him back, he had heard every bit of the exchange between him and Anya before a large explosion had broken off all contact. "You _sure_ those two aren't together? Because, frankly they fight like an old married couple."

"Trust me, they ain't together," Modo answered. "And with assholes like _you_ helpin' 'em."

Aires narrowed his eyes. "How dare you—"

"Get over yourself," Modo snarled. "You may have been put in charge of this particular mission, but that doesn't make you a leader. You're an asshole, Aires. You've _always_ been an asshole, and you'll always _be_ an asshole."

"Amen to that," Vinnie said with a grin before sobering once he saw Lady approaching . "Together or not, they need our help," he growled as he revved Sweetheart's engine. "Report us if you want, Aires…but we're gonna save Anya and our bro."

"Hell yeah! Now we're talkin'!" Modo roared as he revved Li'l Hoss' engine before kicking her into high gear. "Lead the way, Lady! C'mon, Vinnie! Last one there buys the first round!"

"AWOHOOHOOOOOO!" Vinnie cheered as he raced after his comrade and Lady. "Make way for the baddest mamma-jamma in the universe!"

* * *

"How much do you weigh?" Throttle asked as his tail tightened around Anya's waist.

Anya's face turned as red as her hair. "I _hardly_ think that's an appropriate question to ask right now!"

Despite the situation, Throttle rolled his eyes. It seemed that no matter _which _planet they came from, _all _women were sensitive about their weight. Argh! "Oh, never mind. Just keep your fingers on the triggers."

"What're you—?" Before Anya could finish her thought, Throttle lifted her into the air with his tail and swung her around. Despite her squawk of surprise, Anya managed to remember Throttle's orders. She kept her trigger fingers planted firmly against the triggers of her blasters and fired as Throttle did the same with his own blasters as he spun the both of them around.

Human and Martian acted as a well-oiled machine—letting loose with a barrage of blaster fire and taking out the Plutarkians closest to them. With the most immediate threat gone, Throttle put Anya back down onto her feet and even held her steady as she leaned on him a little while waiting for her vision to stop swimming.

"What's wrong? Forget to spot?" Throttle asked.

"Well excuse me," Anya snarked. "But it's been a while since my cheerleading days."

"You were a cheerleader?" Throttle asked in the surprise—unable to get the sudden image of Anya dressed in a skimpy uniform out of his head despite their current situation.

"Yeah, and if we live through this, maybe I'll do a little dance for ya, but _now's_ not the time for this discussion," Anya said as she narrowed her eyes at the new wave of Plutarkians who were closing in on them.

"I'll hold you to that," Throttle said with a grin as he raised his blasters. "It's something to live for. Still can't picture you as a cheerleader though." An obvious lie since Throttle was picturing it very well at that moment.

"Yeah, well, it was either _that_ or beauty pageants, and I'm _not_ a fan of big hair," Anya retorted as he nudged Throttle to bring his attention back to the matter at hand.

"Why won't you just be good little pests and die?" one of the Plutarkians hissed.

"Because we don't bow to fish bate," Throttle snarled.

"Make no mistake," Anya said with a dark grin as she pressed her back against Throttle's and kept her blasters at the ready. "You _might_ kill us by the end of this fight, but we're gonna make you work for it."

"_Work_ for it?" another Plutarkian asked with a wicked grin. "There's thirty of us, and only _two_ of you. Somehow I don't think working will be involved at any point."

"Yeah, you pathetic little insects are all alone."

A slow grin spread over Throttle's face. "No we're not." Grabbing Anya, Throttle pushed her down to the ground and shielded her as a barrage of blaster fire and explosions erupted. Once a path had been cleared, he lifted the red head to her feet and pulled her through all the bedlam. "Take out as many as you can, but don't be a hero!" he shouted above the din. "Just try to get to Valkyrie so we can make a break for it!"

"Got it!" Anya shouted back as she parted ways with Throttle and weaved through the chaos of the battle—shooting any Plutarkian that got in her way.

"Anya!" Vinnie shouted before throwing an object at the read head. "Here, catch!"

Anya caught the object which turned out to be a blaster. "Got it!" she shouted as she tucked the weapon into the back waistband of her jeans. "Easy peasy!" Unfortunately, that was the last easy thing she was faced with. Getting to Valkyrie was not as easy a task as she would have liked, and on more than one occasion did Anya find herself outnumbered by two or more of the fish aliens. However, her resourcefulness combined with the unavoidable crossfire of the battle worked to Anya's advantage in these situations, and soon, only on Plutarkian stood between her and Valkyrie. "Ouch-Town, population _you_," Anya snarled with a dark grin before aiming her blaster and pulling the trigger only to be rewarded with a soft sputter before the blaster died. Eyes widening a little in disbelief, Anya squeezed the trigger again only to be met with the same result. "Fuck," she hissed under her breath.

"I've got you now, you stupid bitch," the Plutarkian sneered as he leveled his blaster on Anya.

Suddenly remembering the spare blaster Vinnie had given her tucked in the back of her jeans, Anya could not help but flash back to 'Tombstone,' her favorite movie of all time. "You're a daisy if you do," she drawled with a grin before swiftly drawing the hidden blaster and taking aim only to watch in disbelief as a blaster shot came from behind her and hit the Plutarkian right between the eyes—killing him instantly. Turning, Anya saw Throttle a few yards behind her on Lady and with his left arm still raised-a small stream of smoke wafting out of the muzzle of his blaster.

"Heh, look at that," Throttle said with a grin. "I _still _managed to save you."

"Yeah, and _this_ time I didn't need it," Anya griped as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I _so_ had him."

"Uh, huh," Throttle said with a grin as he holstered his blaster. "You're just mad because the knight was the one who go the last save in."

"Oh, whatever," Anya said with a small pout, though she grinned just a little as she hurriedly mounted Valkyrie. "LET'S GO!" she shouted before moments later peeling out at full speed and making for the base-camp.

Though some Plutarkians still pursued them, the quartet knew that they would be taken out once they were in range of the camp's laser cannons and short-range missiles. So with that collective thought in mind, the group opted to not fire upon their pursuers and instead ride as fast as they could towards safety.

They were not disappointed.

The moment the camp came into view, missiles were launched and laser cannons were fired. The four riders swerved and weaved to avoid being hit, and within a matter of moments, they were safe within the compounds of the camp.

Now free of pursuit and blaster fire, Anya turned of Valkyrie and allowed herself to lean forward and rest her forehead against his handlebars while she gingerly rubbed her arm. Though she was able to move and work with it now, there was still a roaring throb that refused to be ignored. "Good baby," she murmured softly to Valkyrie. "We'll get you checked out when we get back to base, okay?"

"You okay?" Throttle asked as he pulled along beside Anya and turned Lady's engine off. "How's the arm?" he asked as he pulled off his helmet.

"I can move it, but it still hurts like Hell," Anya answered with a grimace as she took off her own helmet.

"We'll get it checked out at the hospital when we get back to base," Throttle said as he turned to face his two friends as they pulled up along side him. "I thought I told you two to stay put," he said with a small grin as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"What can I say?" Modo replied with a grin of his own as he removed his helmet. "We've got problems with authority.

"Damn straight!" Vinnie added with a laugh. "_No one_ tells _this_ mamma-jamma what to do!"

"Except for Charley," Throttle said.

"Yeah…except for Charley," Vinnie said sheepishly before reaching over and thumping Throttle on the shoulder. "But seriously, man…you're our bro. We're not just gonna sit on our tails when we could be helping you."

"Hell no," Modo said with a shake of his head. "'Sides…Charley would never forgive us."

"Even after all the shit I've put you guys through over these past few years?" Throttle asked in disbelief.

"They're your friends, Throttle," Anya said with a smile as she continued rubbing her arms. "Remember what I said? Friends forgive each other."

"Yeah, what she said," Vinnie said with a grin.

"Listen to the pretty lady, Throttle," Modo said with a chuckle. "And you'll be happy to know your squad made it back okay, Anya."

"Thanks for the heads up, big guy…and thanks for the assist out there, you guys. I owe all y'all one," Anya said with a smile which only widened when she saw replacement squadrons arriving for their shift. "Now if all y'all will excuse me, I've gotta get to the hospital."

* * *

_…Hospital hanger; later…_

"You really didn't have to come with me, ya know," Anya said with a sigh as she sat on one of the exam tables and waited for her turn to come.

"Yeah, well I wanted to," Throttle said as he leaned against the bed with his arms crossed over his chest. "Seeing as how you're in here because of me…_again_."

"Yeah…I should probably take that under advisement," Anya said dryly as she gave Throttle a sideways glance. "You're dangerous, Thorneboy."

"Oh, like you're any different, Blaine? Call me crazy, but getting between three fighting Martians and then pulling the stunt that you pulled today qualifies as pretty damned crazy."

"That's entirely beside the point," Anya replied.

Throttle snorted softly in laughter and gave a small shake of his head. "Wow…"

"You again?" Emily asked. "It seems like every time I turn around, I've got you in here. Hi, Throttle," she greeted with a sunny smile.

"Hey, Em," Throttle replied with a nod.

"So…what are we in for today, hmm?" Emily asked as she looked Anya over.

"Dislocated shoulder," Anya replied. "I pushed it back in and I can move it okay, but it still really hurts…figured you could give me a shot of something and send me on my way so you can deal with those who are more seriously hurt than I am."

"Yeah, I can do that," Emily said with a nod as she left only to return a few moments later with a syringe. "Dislocated shoulder, huh? I actually haven't seen many of those in here. What did you do, run out of ammo and then try to throw your bike at a Plutarkian?"

Throttle threw back his head and laughed. "Thanks for that visual, Em. That one's staying in the vault," he said as he lightly tapped the side of his head.

Anya rolled her eyes. "No, I didn't try to throw my bike."

"Wouldn't put it past her though," Throttle interjected with a grin.

"Are you gonna let me tell this story?" Anya asked with a raised eyebrow before wincing as the needle penetrated her bicep.

"Oh, by all means," Throttle said with a low, but playful bow.

"Shades over here got blasted off his bike and I pulled his butt to safety before he could be flattened by what would've been a really bad landing."

"I take it you were on your bike when all this happened?" Emily asked as she put a small bandage over the prick mark in Anya's arm.

"Yep," Anya answered with a nod.

"No wonder your arm hurts so badly…your muscles, ligaments and tendons are all inflamed," Emily replied with a heavy sigh as she reached into one of the front pockets of her scrubs and pulled out a bottle of pills. "Going at a momentum of roughly a hundred miles an hour and then pulling what could only be over two hundred pounds of Martian muscle? You're lucky your arm wasn't ripped clean out of your socket. Here," she said as she poured out three large pills and handed them to Anya before capping the bottle and putting it back into her pocket only to pull out another bottle. "The ones I just gave you are Vicaden, and these are anti-inflammatories," she said as she poured six slightly smaller pills into her hand before handing them over. "Use the Vicaden when you go to bed…only _one_ pill per dose, and use the anti-inflammatories as needed when you're awake. The doctors are all busy right now."

"Kinda figured they would be," Anya said with a heavy sigh as she pocketed the pills after swallowing one of the Vicaden—fully intending to go directly to her room after leaving the hangar. "Today was a blood bath."

"Either way," Emily continued. "Keep an eye on your arm. If in three days it's still hurting like it is now, then come back and have a doctor take a look at you. If you find yourself coming back in three days, then it's likely you tore something and will have to undergo surgery."

"Great," Anya said with a groan before sliding off the bed and onto her feet. "Well, thanks for the drugs. I'll get out of your hair."

"Anytime," Emily said with a smile. "Be careful out there. Oh, Throttle, if you see him, tell my big lug that I'll be off soon."

"Will do," Throttle said with a nod while placing a hand at the small of Anya's back and escorting her through the hangar. "C'mon, Red."

The walk to their rooms was uneventful, and both Throttle and Anya passed the time in a comfortable silence. Throttle took the time to covertly run his gaze over Anya. At 5'7", she was shorter than Carbine as well as being shorter than Charley and the other girls in his motley family. But what Anya lacked in size, she made up for in other ways—bravery being one of them.

"Tell me about her," Anya said at last—desperate to get her mind off of how warm and strong Throttle's hand was against her back.

"Huh?" Throttle asked as he blinked behind his shades and was pulled from his thoughts. "Who her?"

"The one you lost," Anya said softly. "The one who drives you to drink, although I have to say that I'm proud of you for seeming to kick the habit."

"Yeah, well…punching a pretty girl in the face and then having said girl kick my ass is pretty sobering," Throttle replied wryly before sighing and falling silent for a few moments. "She was a lot like you, actually," he said at last with a sad yet fond smile. "Brave…stubborn as all get out, and always putting the safety of other before her own. She was our leader, you know. When the Plutarkians first invaded, our system of government pretty much collapsed and it fell to the armed forces to lead the way to victory. She was our general."

"Sounds like you loved her," Anya said softly as she looked up at Throttle—unable to keep from noticing how lost he looked beneath the normal, stoic facade which was now crumbling around the edges.

"I did," Throttle answered softly. "Mother of Mars, I loved that crazy spitfire. "It's been really hard to let go of her." He sighed. "Lately…I've been thinking about moving on and finding someone new," he began—watching Anya's face carefully out of the corner of his eye. "But I always feel like I'm betraying her somehow."

Anya sighed softly. "That's how I felt when I started dating again after my Brian was killed in action two years ago." She sighed again. "Maybe I should've waited longer than two years to grieve…at least then I would've been spared the pain of Larry."

"I still can't believe that jack-off," Throttle said with a growl. "I mean seriously…what a fucking idiot."

"Yeah, well…" Anya said with a shrug. "I'm just glad I didn't sleep with him." They were at her door now, and Anya opened it before turning on the lights.

"Hey, this place is looking good," Throttle said as he peered in. "Actually looks like a place I'd want to go into now. Smells way better too."

Actually, it smelled amazing.

The room smelled just like Anya—sweet and spicy at the same time. Behind his shades, Throttle closed his eyes and deeply drew the scent into him. He tried to compare the scent to Carbines, but found that he could not quite remember how his late love had smelled. All he could smell was Anya.

Anya grinned and chuckled. "Yeah, well…it's what a lot of elbow grease and hard work will get ya." She turned and faced Throttle—her grin softening into a smile. "Thanks for the escort…and the rescue," she said before standing on tip-toe and pressing a kiss to Throttle's cheek.

The smallest of breaths caught in Throttle's throat. "Anytime," he answered somewhat huskily.

"Oh, good you're still up. We were hoping we'd catch you."

Throttle and Anya turned to see Modo, Charley and Vinnie walking down the hall towards them.

"Something wrong?" Anya asked. "Because I've gotta be honest with you guys…once the Vicaden I took kicks in, I won't be up for much of anything."

"No, nothing like that," Charley said with a chuckle as she held out a six-pack of soda.

Anya's eyes widened. "Where did you get that?"

Like good food, soda pop was exceedingly difficult to find, and when it was rationed out it was done so with great care.

"Duncan," Charley answered. "Since both he and Abbi are diabetic, they don't drink the ones rationed to them, and since no one really orders drinks that require being mixed with soda, he gave me their share. He said it was better than watching them collect dust."

"Oh, well that was nice of him," Anya said with a smile.

"Yeah, we thought so," Vinnie said with a grin. "So we thought we'd see if you two wanted to join us in getting un-caffeinated."

"Sure, c'mon in," Anya said with a chuckle as she stood aside to allow the group entrance into her room. "You comin', Shades?"

"Sure," Throttle answered as he closed the door behind him. "Oh, Modo…Emily said she'll be off soon."

"Thanks, bro," Modo answered with a grin. "Hey, Anya…mind if I leave the door open in case she walks by?"

"Oh, sure go ahead," Anya said with a small wave of her hand.

"Vinnie told me what happened out there tonight," Charley said as she began handing out the cans. "That kind of crazy stunt makes you fit right in with our little group," she said with a chuckle and a grin which faltered when Anya wrinkled her nose upon being presented with a can. "What?"

"They're all lemon-lime," Anya grumbled.

"You don't like lemon-lime?" Vinnie asked incredulously. "Dude, how can you not like lemon-lime? It's so refreshing." As if to drive his point home, he opened his can and took a gulp.

"Yeah…and it's also all my mom and dad ever gave me to drink when I was sick," Anya answered. "It's my sick drink…and I don't like to drink it when I'm not sick because then it makes me _think_ about being sick."

The group was silent for a few moments.

"Being in pain and drugged up is _kind_ of like being sick," Throttle answered with a small grin.

Anya stared at Throttle with a dead-pan expression for several moments before sighing in resignation and holding out a hand. "Gimme the can."

"Here you go," Charley said with a giggle as she handed the red head her drink before opening her own can. "Lady and Valkyrie are fine, by the way. I took a quick look at their status reports as I was heading out of the garage." She sighed softly and sipped her soda as she leaned backwards into Vinnie. "I'm so glad I got switched to the late shift. Now I get to spend more time with my honey."

"That's right, babe," Vinnie said with a grin as he nuzzled Charley's cheek and wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Need me to open that for you?" Throttle asked Anya.

"Nah, I got it," Anya said. "I might be right-handed, but I open soda cans with my left hand…don't ask me why," she said as she popped the top. "Well, don't just stand around. Go ahead and have a seat somewhere." To drive her point home, she sat on her bed and scooted back so her back was against the wall before crossing her legs 'Indian style'. "I know I'm not the only one who had a rough day, so c'mon…take a load off."

Throttle was quick to sit on the edge of the bed, and the remaining three exchanged secretive but knowing smiles as they distributed themselves between the two chairs and the bed.

"You guys don't mind if I take off my shoes, do ya?" Anya asked.

"It's your room, Anya-ma'am," Modo answered.

"Thanks," Anya said with a grin as she uncrossed her legs and balanced her soda can on her knee as she untied her combat boots before kicking them off. "I promise they don't smell all that bad," she said before removing her socks and wiggling her toes.

"Please…we're used to Vinnie's feet," Throttle said with a grin while trying not to stare too noticeably at Anya's toes. They had to be the cutest toes Throttle had ever seen. "Now _those_ are some nasty smelling feet," he said with a chuckle as he deflected a balled up piece of paper that the white-furred Martian had thrown at him.

"Hey…at least I don't have Modo's BO. I don't know how Emily stands it," Vinnie said with a grin.

"Please," Modo said with a roll of his eye while taking a gulp of his soda. "You _wish_ you smelled as good as I do."

Vinnie reached over and lightly shoved the gentle giant. "Pssh…whatever, bro."

Charley grinned and chuckled while making herself comfortable on the bed. This was nice—the group of them sitting around and simply hanging out. It was almost like old times…except there was a prospective new group member among them. Modo and Vinnie were convinced that Anya was a good match for Throttle, but Charley wanted to be absolutely certain. Looking between the two, she could not deny that they looked good together, or that there was an obvious comfort between the pair. So, the lovely mechanic thought it best to feel the red head out and find out more about her in a group setting—hence the late-night social. It was an inconspicuous enough way for the still-healing Throttle to learn more about his possible future love. "So Anya, I've been meaning to ask..."

"Yeah?" Anya prompted after sipping her soda.

"Your bike's a 'boy', right?"

"Yeah…he just 'feels' like he'd be a boy," Anya answered. "Why?"

"So why'd you name him 'Valkyrie'?" Charley asked. "I mean, correct me if I'm wrong with my mythology here, but weren't Valkyries _female_?"

"Nah, you're right," Anya said with a small grin. "They were female…but, I lost my favorite horse when the invasion began…lost her when those overgrown sardines blew up our ranch." She sighed softly. "I loved that horse like you wouldn't believe. I've been around horses my entire life and she wasn't my first, but man alive…she was my _favorite_. She was this beautiful mahogany shade, and when the sun hit her main and tale _just_ right, they looked like they were on fire. I would ride her every day as fast as she could go and just let the wind blow through my hair and take all my cares an' worries away. Anyway, _her_ name was Valkyrie, so when I was issued my bike, I named him after her in order to honor her memory."

"I see," Charley said with a soft smile.

"'Sides," Anya continued with a grin. "The name seemed fitting since Valkyries rode into battlefields from Valhalla to collect the souls of the dead." She looked to Throttle, Vinnie and Modo. "How is that any different from what we do?"

"That's deep," Vinnie said as he listened.

Anya simply grinned and chuckled. "I have my moments."

For his part, Throttle found himself unable to stop picturing the scene as Anya had described it. How very lovely the woman appeared with her smiling face alight and without a care in the world as her red hair flew behind her and her laughter floated upon the wind. Ruined buildings and decimated earth were replaced with tall trees, green grass and wildflowers as far as the eye could see, and in place of her current dirty and worn boots, jeans and jacket, Anya was barefoot and wore a white, sleeveless dress that only served to better allow the sun to kiss and caress her creamy skin.

Mother of Mars…

It was a beautiful sight.


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you everyone who's been reading my fic, and thank you so very much all of you who reviewed the last chapter! I love hearing from my readers, and I do accept anonymous reviews, so please don't be shy :)

Sorry for the delay, but my new job has been keeping me rather busy and drained as of late -,-

**Ellmar:** DO **_NOT _**drink anything while reading this chapter! ;-p

******MorbidCrow:** As always, my dearest friend, thank you so much for letting me bounce ideas off of you. *huggles* You rock!

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters that you will find in this story, nor do I own anything else pertaining to Biker Mice from Mars (unfortunately -,-). I also don't own the character of Duncan who belongs to fellow FF/net member, and my very dear friend, MorbidCrow. However, all other OCs belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter 7  
**

* * *

_"Have you asked of yourselves, 'what's the price you might pay?'?  
Is it simply a game for rich young boys to play?  
The color of the world is changing, day by day."_

_-'Red and Black' from Les Miserables_

_…Anya's room; the next afternoon…_

"Anya? You awake, hun?" Charley asked as she slowly opened the door and poked her head inside. Seeing Anya gradually sink into the beginnings of sleepy delirium the night before as the vicaden took effect, the mechanic had taken it upon herself to check in on her before their shifts started in order to ensure that Anya woke up alright.

In her bed, Anya groaned and rolled over. "No…_my_ taco," she growled sleepily—obviously very deep in a dream.

Charley had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing as she quietly entered the room and softly closed the door behind her before tip-toeing over to the edge of the bed. "Anya," she said softly while lightly touching the red head's shoulder.

"Back off fuzzballs…you can't have my taco," Anya mumbled as she tightened her grip on her pillow. "And _you _funnel-heads can't have my marshmallow."

Charley's shapely body trembled with the effort to hold her laughter in check as she listened to the younger woman's no doubt vicaden-induced dream. "Okay, Anya-girl…time to wake up now," she said as she shook Anya's shoulder a little more firmly.

"No! Come back with my taco and marshmallow, you damn varmints!" Anya growled in frustration and began moving as though she were running—coming to an abrupt halt when her foot made contact with the wall against which her bed was positioned. She awoke with a start before reaching down and lightly rubbing her toes. "Ow…"

"You just can't catch a break, can you?" Charley asked with a chuckle.

Anya looked over her shoulder. "How long you been here?" she asked in a voice that was still heavy with sleep.

"Long enough to know that the vicaden was giving you some crack-baby dreams," Charley answered with a grin before turning on the bedside lamp. "And that there was a taco and a marshmallow involved."

Anya growled softly and slowly sat up. "Damn Care Bears…they stole my taco."

Charley blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Cute, little do-gooders, my ass…they're damn taco thieves is what they are," Anya growled while combing her fingers through her hair.

"Okay…." Charley was beginning to lose the battle against her laughter. "And did they steal your marshmallow too?"

"No, the Snorks did," Anya answered without missing a beat.

That did it.

Charley threw her head back in laughter and fell into a nearby chair. "Wow…throw in a few turtles, and you would've had a full 80's retrospective."

"_They_ stole my pizza," Anya said with a pout. "It was before I got the taco and giant marshmallow."

Charley was forced to hold her sides as her laughter turned into full-blown guffaws. "Oh, God I'm gonna pee my pants," she managed to say as she gasped for air.

"Well, at _least_ use the trash can," Anya grumbled as she scooted to the edge of the bed before swinging her legs over.

"Dare I ask if there were Smurfs?" Charley asked as she wiped a tear away from her eye.

"Where do you think I got the marshmallow from?" Anya asked before standing only to hurriedly sit back down again. "Whoa…head rush."

"That's it," Charley said firmly. "No more viacden for you."

"But I like the vicaden," Anya protested weakly. "It makes everything warm and happy."

"Fine," Charley said with a small roll of her eyes. "Just be sure to only take them when you go to bed. The _last_ thing we need is you suddenly breaking formation to start chasing the Fraggles or whatever _else_ is lurking around in that brain of yours." She blinked. "Dare I ask where you got the taco?"

Anya looked at Charley as though she had sprouted a second head. "Taco Bell…where _else_ would I have gotten it?"

"Oh, sweetie…the buses don't go where you live, do they?" Charley asked dryly.

"Hey, I'm commin' off a prescription narcotic high. Gimme this one, 'kay?" Anya asked dryly as she stretched her arms above her head and winced a little.

"Okay, fine. How's the arm?"

"Not _as_ bad as it was yesterday," Anya answered.

"Well, that's good," Charley said with a smile. "I know Throttle will be happy to hear that," she ventured casually—all the while watching Anya carefully for a reaction. "You know…seeing as how it's because of him that you needed the pain medication to begin with.

"I'd do it again," Anya answered simply with a softness to her voice as she began gathering up her toiletries. "Just don't tell Throttle that," she added hurriedly after clearing her throat. "Don't want him getting it into his head to pull crazy stunts whenever he gets the notion…"

For her part, Charley simply smiled softly. There was a genuine affection and fondness between Throttle and Anya, and she had gotten a good look at it last night. The way they spoke and laughed together…the way they would covertly gaze at each other when the other was not looking…there was a definite connection between the two of them that simply needed to be nurtured. Luckily for Anya, Charley liked her and had no problem to do any of the needed nurturing when the situation called for it. "My lips are sealed. You want me to wait for you? We can head to the mess hall together if you want."

Anya blinked. "Vinnie went without you?"

Charley shook her head—seeing an opportunity. "No, he, Modo and Throttle got called into Stoker's office for what happened yesterday."

"Oh, crap," Anya groaned. "Gimme five minutes to shower an' get dressed," she said as she darted out of her room before calling over her shoulder as she raced down the hall. "I can't let Throttle get in trouble because of me!"

* * *

_…Stoker's office…_

Sitting back in his chair with his elbows resting on the chair's arms and his fingers steepled under his chin, Stoker felt a strong feeling of déjà vu as he regarded Throttle, Vinnie and Modo as they stood before him. It was almost like old times back on Mars when the trio was written up and reported to their superior for whatever reason. The end result was usually a lecture for the benefit of the aggrieved party—usually a member of the recognized army who had gotten on his high horse after not being given the respect he thought he deserved-followed by covert winks and pats on the back once said party had departed. Unless it had been a serious offense, Stoker had never taken such complaints and grievances seriously. Most of the time, they were simply petty tantrums thrown by officers who should had never been promoted.

Having served for years in the Martian Army before starting the Freedom Fighters, Stoker knew only too well the delusions of grandeur that plagued certain officers in the army, and the magnitude of their tantrums and fits when they felt they had been passed over or otherwise disrespected. It was this sort of petty behavior that caused Stoker to break with the Martian Army in the first place. In a time when their planet was under attack, they needed to put their differences aside and work together like a well-oiled machine; unfortunately, that never happened.

Politics had always gotten in the way.

So Stoker had created a military branch in which politics was not an issue. There was no intricate rank structure. The highest rank was Commander, and it was a rank that was never given lightly. It was given only to those who had gone above and beyond the call of duty and proved their worth in the field as both a fighter and a leader. Stoker was of course the default leader of the 'rag-tag' force, but with the exception of the rare occasions that warranted it, he _never_ pulled rank. He never strutted around like he had something to prove. Stoker knew who he was, and he knew what he could do.

That was all that mattered.

He also, from his years in the Martian Army, knew how to play the political game, and it served him well when ridiculous complaints were brought up against any of his fighters.

Like now.

"So…would you three like to tell me just _what_ happened yesterday?" Stoker asked with a raised eyebrow and a slight yet audible weariness to his voice.

"What do you mean, coach?" Vinnie asked with feigned innocence.

"Oh, so we're playing this game, are we?" Stoker asked wryly after staring silently at the white-furred Martian—knowing simply by looking at him that Vinnie knew full-well what he was talking about. "Alright, let me draw it out for the three of you in red crayon. _Why_ is an…" he consulted a form in front of him. "Aries Von Ratzinger screaming to get the three of you demoted to a permanent KP assignment?"

"An' here I thought he didn't like us," Modo said with a dark chuckle and a roll of his eye.

"He doesn't," Stoker answered dryly.

"Kitchen patrol, eh?" Throttle asked with a small grin. "And here I thought he was gonna ask for our heads on silver platters."

"Oh, he _did_," Stoker answered flatly. "But once I explained to him that the chances of us getting one let alone _three_ silver platters in times like these were none to none, he settled for KP."

"Sorry, but peeling potatoes isn't my thing," Throttle said while crossing his arms over his chest.

"Maybe we can find out just _what_ goes into the Friday Surprise," Modo said with a cheeky grin.

"Huh…I dunno about you guys, but I think I'd look good in a hairnet," Vinnie said with a wide grin.

"Vincent," Stoker growled—smiling inwardly when the white-furred Martian snapped to immediate attention. _I've still got it!_ "So…who wants to tell me what happened, hmm? Modo… calling Aires an asshole what was it…?" He consulted his notes. "Four times in a span of thirty seconds?" he continued. "Where you going for some kind of record?"

"I was just callin' it like I saw it," Modo answered with a shrug, though his eye glowed a little.

"Yeah, coach," Vinnie said with a nod. "You know Modo doesn't go around bad-mouthin' people unless they've _really_ got it coming."

"Yeah…my momma taught me better than that," Modo added solemnly. "I'd never dirty her memory like that."

"Granted," Stoker said with a small nod. "And that's exactly what I told _him_…which prompted him to go off on another rant that was directed at all three of you…saying that the three of you were careless and detrimental to the whole Resistance."

"That's just because the three of us did what _he_ didn't have the balls to do," Throttle said with an underlying growl. "And we called him on it in front of the other squads."

Stoker sighed softly. "He said that you went off your own and risked your life to save Red Squadron from annihilation…and then the two of you charged in after him when it looked like he wouldn't make it back."

"Did he happen to mention that Red Squadron is mostly made up of females?" Throttle asked with his growl still present. "You'd think after what happened on Mars that Aires would've fought tooth and nail to make sure Red Squadron made it back. I just couldn't sit on my ass and let them die. If I didn't go in and help them…"

Stoker sighed heavily. "I know, Throttle…and if I had my way, all the females would be rounded up and hidden somewhere the Plutarkians couldn't reach them…or at the very least kept _away_ from the battlefield. But unfortunately, we need _all_ able bodies on the front whether they be male or female." Stoker sighed once more and rubbed his forehead—suddenly feeling older than he actually was. "The three of you are off the hook," he said after a few moments.

Vinnie blinked in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes," Stoker answered with a nod. "I can't fault you for following through with an instinct…especially considering the scars that we all bear on our souls." He sighed. "Hell…if it were me, I would've done the same thing."

"What about Ratzinger?" Modo asked with a growl.

Stoker gave a small wave of his hand before sharing a conspiring wink with the three Martians whom he looked upon almost like his sons. "Let him sit on it and rotate."

"There's the Stoker we know and love," Vinnie said before clearing his throat. "Well…you know what I mean," he said with a sheepish smile.

Stoker grinned. "Yeah, I know." He turned his gaze to Throttle. "By the way, it's good to see you looking more like your old self again," he said as he motioned to the tan-furred Martian's hair. A few braids remained, but all the dreadlocks were gone.

"Thought it was time for a change," Throttle said simply with a small shrug.

"Yeah, well good," Stoker said. "It was looking like a rat's nest…now go on, get out of here. I've got work to—" Just then, the door burst open and Anya ran in—her red hair still wet and with Charley on her heels. Stoker blinked in surprise. "Commander Blaine…is there a problem?"

"There is if you're punishing Throttle for yesterday," Anya panted—having sprinted all the way from her quarters without stopping.

"Anya," Throttle began. "It's—"

"It wasn't his fault," Anya cut in as she moved to stand in front of Throttle as though subconsciously trying to protect him from whatever punishment Stoker had in mind.

Finding his efforts to explain the situation to Anya foiled, Throttle contented himself to simply stand quietly behind Anya and waited. All the while he did so, he could not help but noticed how his heart fluttered in his chest at Anya springing to his defense—however half-cocked her action was. It only served to further prove just how strong and loyal a woman Anya was, and that was precisely the kind of woman that Throttle loved.

Stoker blinked again and tried to process all that was going on. It was Anya's fault? Had Ratzinger left something out of his report? Had Modo, Vinnie and Throttle left something out in their retelling of the event. Glancing to Modo, Vinnie and Charley, who had just taken her place by her husband's side, Stoker caught sight of the secretive grins passing between the three of them, and suddenly the pieces of the puzzle began falling into place. _I smell a set-up…_

Stoker knew that Throttle was a thinker by nature. As such, he never acted so impulsively and without some sort of plan in the way that Vinnie and even occasionally Modo. But yesterday, Throttle had acted out of character. While he had said that it was for the good of a squadron, Stoker could not help but suspect that Throttle's motivation was more singular in nature. How could he not when he saw the small, happy yet bemused smile on his face at having Anya jump to his defense without invitation?

_So that explains the haircut…not to mention those three cupids. Alright…I can play along._ However, Stoker was not about to let on that he knew. "I see," he said slowly as he sat back in his chair and fought against the urge to smile. "Would you care to elaborate?"

"Yes, I was careless," Anya answered.

"You were careless," Stoker repeated in a voice that clearly indicated that he was not convinced.

"Yes," Anya confirmed with a nod. "If I had been more careful, then Throttle wouldn't have had to come swoopin' in to save my ass along with the asses of my squad….and if he hadn't done _that_, then Vinnie and Modo wouldn't have felt the need to risk their lives either."

Stoker drew his eyebrows together. _Is this girl for real? Does she really think I'd buy such a lame-ass story?_ "Uh, huh…"

"So ya see?" Anya asked. "It's not their fault, so if you're gonna punish someone, punish _me_."

"Uh, huh…are you finished?" Stoker asked.

"Yes, sir," Anya answered.

"Well, first of all…let me commend you for coming forward to me with this, Commander Blaine," Stoker said. "It shows great courage on your part."

"But—" Throttle began protesting only to be silenced by Stoker holding up a hand with a meaningful look—making him relax instantly.

"However…second of all, I just have to ask…" Stoker began.

"Yes, sir?" Anya asked.

"Do you think I'm a flippin' idiot?" Stoker asked—taking care to avoid profanities as he always did while in the presence of females.

Anya blinked in surprise. "No sir…I never said you were."

"Then _why_ would you think that I would for a second believe that _you_ were the one at fault for the fallout of Ratzinger's poorly constructed plan?" Stoker asked.

Anya was speechless for a few moments. "I…wait…so they're not in trouble?" she asked as she motioned to Throttle, Modo and Vinnie.

"No," Stoker answered.

Anya was silent before glaring at Charley and pointing at her. "_You_!"

Charley blinked. "_Me_?"

"You _lied_ to me!" Anya fumed. "You said they were in trouble!"

"I never said _that_," Charley said calmly, though inwardly she was in hysterics. While neither Throttle nor Anya had openly admitted it, their attraction for each other was evident in their actions and behavior. All that was needed was a little nurturing to help that attraction grow into something more. "_All_ I said was that the three of them had gotten called into Stoker's office. _You_ were the one who made the leap."

Anya was silent for several moments—simply staring at Charley as her cheeks darkened in color. "Well, don't I just feel like an ass?" she muttered at last with a sheepish grin.

"Yeah, well don't," Throttle said with a soft chuckle and an even softer smile as he placed a hand on Anya's shoulder. "I thought it was sweet. It's nice to know you care."

"Oh, and _this_ wasn't proof?" Anya asked dryly as she pointed to her sore shoulder. "Bad enough you almost ripped my arm outta my socket, but I was havin' dreams last night that would've even the Beatles would've thought were weird."

Behind his shades, Throttle blinked in confusion. "I'm sorry…say _what_ now?"

"Don't ask," Charley said with a chuckle.

"Screw that, I'm askin'," Vinnie said with a cheeky grin.

"Fine," Anya grumped. "But not until I've had some coffee."

Throttle chuckled. "Alright, fine. Let's head over to the mess hall. See you later, coach," he said to Stoker before leading the way out the door.

Once the last of them had left and closed the door behind them, the veteran solder threw back his head and laughed. "Wow…that boy sure knows how to pick 'em."


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you everyone who's been reading my fic, and thank you so very much all of you who reviewed the last chapter! I love hearing from my readers, and I do accept anonymous reviews, so please don't be shy :)

Sorry for the delay, but I was laid off a few months ago, and I've been too down in the dumps to feel any kind of inspiration -,-

******MorbidCrow:** As always, my dearest friend, thank you so much for letting me bounce ideas off of you. *huggles* You rock!

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters that you will find in this story, nor do I own anything else pertaining to Biker Mice from Mars (unfortunately -,-). I also don't own the character of Duncan who belongs to fellow FF/net member, and my very dear friend, MorbidCrow. However, all other OCs belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter 8  
**

* * *

_"__Sometimes I wonder if I'd ever make it through…  
through this world without having you, I just wouldn't have a clue.  
'Cuz sometimes it seems like this world's closing in on me,  
and there's no way of breaking free, and then I see you reach for me."_

_-'When I See You Smile' by Bad English_

_…Jax & Rimfire's quarters; a mother later…_

"Five skull earrings...four quarts of Jack, three studded belts, two pairs of spandex pants, and a tattoo of Ozzie!" Jax sighed as she continued tinkering—her eyes encased behind protective goggles as she kept her face close to her task. "Man…I _really_ hope those guys are okay…"

Aside from her virus project, Jax had a little pet project on the side that consisted of repairing and restoring an old karaoke machine she had found a few months earlier in a junk heap while searching for parts she could use to repair one of the computers in the computer lab. Jax could not believe the luck of her find, and she had taken it upon herself to repair the piece of equipment. With the entirety of the entertainment industry demolished in the midst of the war, movies, television and radio were but a memory. Even combing the cyber realm for instrumental versions of songs had been an adventure all of its own!

But Jaxxon had prevailed.

Through many countless and sleepless hours, Jax had hunted down instrumental versions of songs—the greatest find in her opinion being Twisted Sister's _A Twisted Christmas_…especially considering the present time of year. Before the war, Jax would listen to that album every day of the Christmas season, staring from the day after Thanksgiving all the way through Epiphany. It was her special tradition. However, her album was long-since gone—destroyed like so many others. But she had found it once more—a version of it in any case. All that remained was to upload it along with all the other music she had found into the refurbished machine which would prove easy due to the upgrades she had given the nearly obsolete piece of equipment. But all of that would depend on whether or not the machine was able to function once plugged into a power source.

"Well," Jax muttered to herself as she glanced to the plug that was already inserted into the wall socket. "Here goes nothing," she said as she flipped the switch.

There was a soft hum before the small television screen in the machine flared to life—the world 'Welcome' slowly streaming across the front.

The lithe beauty sat back on her heels and grinned widely in victory while throwing up her fists which still clutched a screwdriver and a pair of needle-nose pliers. "It's alive! Hah! I am _all_ that is geek! All of you inferior minions bow before me!" She chuckled softly and lowered her arms while giving her head a small shake as she tossed the two tools into a nearby toolbox. "Yeah right…_me_ with minions…" Still chuckling she reached for the cable that was currently plugged into her computer and brought the free end over to the karaoke machine before plugging it into the designated port. "Try that on for size."

A few keystrokes began the transferring process, and Jax's smile only widened as she watched the hard-ones fruits of her labor find their home in what she hoped would bring happiness to many…_especially_ during this time of the year. Having always loved Christmas, Jax had tried to keep the holiday alive in some way or another, whether it was humming carols wherever she went or simply wishing everyone she saw a 'Merry Christmas'…regardless of their religious affiliation. It was the sentiment that mattered the most, since buying presents was out of the question. But perhaps _this_ was the year she could finally do something more. The karaoke machine would be her gift to this branch of the Resistance, and God willing, it would put a much needed smile upon the faces of those who needed it the most.

But where would she take it?

This was the question Jax pondered as she stood and moved to the small sink and mirror to clean the grease smudges and small scorch marks from her face. It was when she had finished and was combing her fingers through her long hair that she realized that there was only one place that would be the perfect place for her gift, and that was Dragon's Den. Where else would there be a more centralized location in which everyone could partake and enjoy in a little music?

Throwing her jacket over the machine, she wheeled it out of the room and down the corridor once she had closed the door behind her. She hummed happily the entire time she made her way to the bar, and her smile only grew when she stepped over the bar's threshold.

"Top o' the afternoon," Duncan greeted with a smile as he dried glasses.

"Hello there, Jax," Abbi greeted as she looked up from wiping down the bar. The few patrons who were currently in the bar were just finishing up with their drinks and leaving, so she saw no harm in taking the break. "You're in here kind of early."

"That's because I come bearing gifts in light of the holiday season," Jax said proudly as she patted the shape under her jacket. "Why don't you come over here and take a look?"

"You brought us a gift?" Duncan asked in puzzlement as he put glass and towel down on the bar.

"And actual gift?" Abbi asked in disbelief as she moved around to the front of the bar while tossing a red pigtail over her shoulder. "But…why?"

"Because this is the time of year to give to others…and besides," she said as she pulled her jacket off. "It's more of a gift for _everyone_."

Duncan blinked and leapt over the bar. "Is that what I think it is, lass?"

"It might be," Jax answered with a grin.

"An _actual _karaoke machine?" Abbi asked in amazement as she drew closer and dropped to one knee to inspect the machine. "But, Jax…_how_…?" She looked up at the tall brunette.

"I found it months ago in a junk heap," Jax answered. 'Well…what was _left_ of it in any case. I've been fixing it up since then, and I thought this would be the perfect home for it. What do you guys say?"

"And it actually works?" Duncan asked in awe.

"Yeah, it works," Jax said proudly while lightly patting the machine. "I mean, the words are only visible on this small screen…sorry, it was the best I could do considering my limited amount of available parts, but it works just fine. I even scoured cyber space for music and uploaded everything I found into the system."

"Jax, lass…I don't know what to say," Duncan said with a small smile. "This is…just…_wow_…"

Jax gave a small shrug while smiling. "You _could_ always just say 'Merry Christmas'."

"Merry, _merry_ Christmas," Abbi said as she stood and hugged Jax. "Thank you so much for this…it will put a smile on a _lot_ of faces," she said with a smile after pulling away.

"That was the idea," Jax said with a wink before looking out the door when a series of injured-laden gurneys raced by as fast as their pushers could move them towards the hospital hangar. "Oh, boy…"

* * *

_…Hospital…_

"Rimfire! Omigod, Rimfire!" Jax sprinted down the row of hospital beds before finally coming to a halt beside her lover's. "Oh, my Spaceman-McGee…are you okay?" she asked with wide-eyed worry as she sat on the edge of the bed and gripped Rimfire's hand in both of her own. After seeing the gurneys, she had left the bar and hurried to the main hangar as was her usual habit when her lover's shift was over—only to hear from Modo that Rimfire had been injured and had in fact been on one of the gurney's she had seen race by. Once she had heard the news, Jax had not even waited a heartbeat before turning h=on her heel and sprinting towards the hospital as fast as her long legs would carry her.

Rimfire shifted a little so he was more propped up against the wall—taking care not to disturb Emily who was in the process of wrapping his leg-and smiled at his lover as he raised his free hand to Jax's cheek and tenderly brushed his thumb against the soft, smooth skin he found there. "Easy, baby…I'm fine, I promise."

"Are you sure?" Jax asked as she leaned into Rimfire's palm. "You're not just saying that to keep me from worrying, are you?"

"Nah, I know better than that," Rimfire said with a fond chuckle as he brushed his thumb across Jax's lips. "Honest, baby…it's just some shrapnel to my leg…didn't even make it to the bone. Isn't that right, Aunt Em?"

"That's right," Emily agreed. "But all the same, the doctor is ordering you to stay off the field for a few days.

"Aw, c'mon," Rimfire protested.

Emily raised an eyebrow and placed her hands on her hips. "Remember, RImfire…I'm married to your uncle. Do you _honestly_ think I can't handle you?"

"Aw, nertz," Rimfire grumbled with a pout. "Bully…"

"And don't you forget it," Emily said while sticking out her tongue. "Keep him in bed, will you, Jax? I'll be right back with his cane."

"What? I don't need a cane!" But Rimfire was talking to Emily's back as she left. "Oh, balls!" he grumped while crossing his arms over his chest.

Jax giggled softly as her previous worry began to gradually fade. "Relax, handsome…you'll find a way to make that cane look pimpin'," she said as she rested a hand on her lover's shoulder while leaning forward to brush a kiss to his forehead. "I'm just glad you're okay…for the most part."

Rimfire's pout melted into a smile and he rested a hand over Jax's before sliding his arm around her waist and drawing her close. In truth, though he brushed off his injury as nothing, Rimfire had been terrified that he would never see his beloved again—that he would be taken by the enemy and tortured until finally being executed. Had it not been for his uncle that very well might have been his fate. "I'm sorry you were worried," he murmured as he lightly touched his antennae to Jax's smooth forehead.

Jax's eyes fluttered closed as she was suddenly filled from head to toe with the warmth of Rimfire's love. "I love you too."

"Jaxxon?"

Jax blinked in surprise at Rimfire's use of her full name. "Yes?"

"Will you marry me?" Rimfire asked as he looked up into Jax's eyes. "And I don't mean after the war, like we originally planned. "I mean right _now_."

Jax blinked and her mouth dropped open a little. "Right now? Are you sure?"

Rimfire nodded. "More sure than I've ever been about anything." He sighed. "I love you Jax…more than I ever thought I could love any other person, and what happened today…it made me not want to go through another moment of my life without being your husband."

Jax smiled softly. "Oh, Rimfire…"

"So…will you?" Rimfire asked.

Jax cupped Rimfire's face in her palms before kissing him tenderly. "Yes," she whispered against his mouth once the kiss had broken. "I'll marry you," she said as she slid her arms around her beloved's neck. "I _will_ be your wife."

Rimfire grinned like a fool before capturing his fiancé's lips in a deep kiss.

"Hey, hey, hey…easy on my patient," Emily admonished with a giggle as she approached with a cane in her hand.

"He might be your patient, but by the end of the night, he's going to be my _husband,_" Jax all but squealed happily."

Emily's eyes widened. "What? _Really_?"

"Really, really…auntie," Jax answered with a grin.

"Oh, congratulations!" Emily exclaimed happily as she threw her arms around her nephew. "Oh, I'm so happy for the two of you," she said as she let go of Rimfire then leaned across the bed to hug Jax as well.

"So, what do you say, Aunt Em?" Rimfire asked. "Can I get out of here so I can make an honest woman out my lady?"

"Of course," Emily said with a nod while shooing the two love-birds away. "Go, go, go!"

"Aren't you coming?" Jax asked as she helped Rimfire to stand before handing him his cane.

Emily glanced at her watch. "Well…it _is _the end of my shift, and it looks like there's enough nurses here to cover the wounded…of course, I'll come!"

"Great," Rimfire said with a wide grin. "Hey, look it's Uncle Modo, Vinnie and Charley. Perfect timing huh?"

"What're you doin' out of bed?" Modo demanded sternly.

"Taking my girl to the chapel," Rimfire answered with a proud smile.

"Oh, Jax that's wonderful!" Charley exclaimed before hugging the younger woman.

"Grats, man," Vinnie said with a smile as he thumped the younger mouse on the shoulder.

"C'mere, you," Modo said with a wide grin as he pulled is nephew into a one-armed embrace. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, Uncle Modo," RImfire said with a smile before pullign away and gently prying Jax out of the now group hug that consisted of her, Charley and Emily. "Come on, let's go."

"You guys go on ahead," Charley said. "I'm going to get Stoker and Sydney. They should be there," she said before setting off at a sprint out of the hospital.

" Where's Throttle?" Rimfire asked as he began tapping his way towards the door hand in hand with Jax. "I want him to be there too."

"He said he'd be right…oh, there he is," Vinnie said as he pointed out the door where Throttle was currently helping Anya to her feet—no doubt the red head had been a victim of Charley's mad dash. "Hey," he greeted with a chuckle as he reached the door. "You okay?"

"Anyone get the number of that truck?" Anya asked dryly before looking to Rimfire. "You're lookin' pretty good…should you be up and about already?"

"Yeah, kid…you should give your leg a break," Throttle said.

"Yeah, well…I _have_ to be up and about seeing as how I'm about to get married," Rimfire said with a wide grin. "Come on, we're heading over to the chapel right now. Charley ran to get Stoker and Sydney."

"Way to go," Throttle said with a small smile as he rested a hand each on Rimfire and Jax's shoulders. "I know you two kids will be happy together."

"Come on, you're coming with us," Rimfire said.

"Well, you guys have fun," Anya said with a small smile as she started turning to walk towards the barracks. "And congratulations to you two."

"Where do you think you're going?" Rimfire asked. "You're invited too."

Anya stopped and turned back towards the group. "I am?"

"Of course you are, Anya ma'am," Modo said with a nod. "You're part of our group."

"Yeah, you're one of us," Jax said with a smile.

"I…I am?" Anya asked in surprise.

"I thought it was obvious," Vinnie said with a grin while sideling up to Anya and draping an arm around her shoulders. "Pssh…see? This is what you get when you leave things like this to Throttle."

"Vinnie…" Throttle groaned as he rubbed his forehead.

"Whaaaaaaat?" Vinnie asked innocently enough. "_Maybe_ if you didn't beat around the bush and instead _said_ what you felt, there wouldn't be this kind confusion," he said pointedly.

"Oh, I'll say what I feel," Throttle said with the smallest of growls towards the white Martian. "But you're not gonna like it, Vincent."

"Psssh, whatever," Vinnie said before grinning conspiringly at Anya. "Alright, here's the deal…you spill blood with us, you risk you life for us, we risk our lives for you, you eat with us, you hang out with us…face it, sweetheart…you're one of us. Isn't that right, Throttle?" he asked as he gently pushed Anya into the tan-furred mouse.

Throttle was forced to wrap an arm around Anya to keep her steady, and his heart pounded like a jackhammer in his chest at the sudden close contact. He had yet to act upon his feelings for the petite red head, and whenever Vinnie, Charley or even Modo made it so Anya was "accidentally" knocked over into him, it was all that Throttle could do _not_ to press her against his body and kiss the life out of her. But on the occasions he acted upon that desire, he would start to lean in only to panic at the very last moment and not go through with it. "Yeah…" he said softly before clearing his throat. "Yeah, you're one of us, Red," he said before slowly removing his hand from Anya's hip—loving how the curve of it had felt under his hand.

The entire time Throttle had held her, Anya could feel her heart fluttering madly within her chest, but thankfully she managed to keep from blushing. She _did_ however have to swallow her small whine of protest when the tan-furred Martian had released her—her hip feeling strangely bereft without Throttle's strong hand there. As much as Anya wanted to grab Throttle's hand and put it back, she nevertheless stopped herself—unsure as to whether or not that would be out of line. She was completely unsure as to _what_ to think of Throttle…

Mainly, how Throttle felt about _her_.

There were times when Anya could feel a strong attraction between her and Throttle—something other than the close friendship they shared—but then it was gone just as soon as it had arrived. There had been so many times when she had thought Throttle was going to kiss her only to be disappointed when he did not, and then there were the moments like the one that had just passed in which Throttle would hang onto her for longer than was necessary.

All of the mixed signals were all very maddening!

"Well…that's good to know," Anya said at last with a small smile.

"Alright, now that _that's_ settled, can we _please_ go so I can get married?" Jax asked with a whine while even bouncing on the balls of her feet. "I'm not getting any younger!"

Rimfire grinned and kissed his fiancé's cheek. "Babe, even if you were a hundred and all wrinkly, you'd still be sexy to me."

Jax grinned. "Naw, thank you baby. That's good to know…now friggan' marry me already!"

Rimfire grinned and saluted formally to the lithe beauty. "Yes, ma'am!"

* * *

_…Dragon's Den; later…_

It had been a simple ceremony, as were all of the war weddings. There had been no pomp and circumstance, but Jaxon knew that she would not have traded the moment for any dream wedding in the world. Her simple ceremony had been a million times better than the _Star Wars_ or even the _Star Trek_ themed weddings she had dreamed about since she was a little girl because she was marrying a man who made her feel as giddy as a school-girl every time he looked at her; and now, surrounded by their motley family at their 'reception', the lithe brunette could not imagine a better way to pass the time until she and Rimfire escaped to their quarters for their first night as husband and wife.

Well…almost…

"Why don't we kick off this party in style?" Jax asked with a grin as she raised her pint to her lips and took a sip. "Why don't you four, gorgeous guys make good use of the karaoke machine I fixed up? It's not just for show, you know."

"Oh, I dunno, Jaxie-girl," Modo waffled. "I ain't exactly the best singer…"

"Aw, c'mon, Uncle Modo," Rimfire said with a grin as he put his own mug down and nudged the gentle giant. "It'll be fun. Vinnie, Stoker and Throttle…you gonna join us?"

"Oh, you definitely should," Sydney chimed in while resting a hand on her husband's arm and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Stoker, honey you've been pushing yourself so hard lately, why don't you take a moment to cut lose?"

"Well…"

"It's a special request of the bride," Jax said with her best pout while batting her eyelashes.

"There, see?" Emily ginned while leaning her head on her husband's bicep and giving him a pout of her own. "Are you honestly going to tell the bride 'no'?"

"No, I guess not," Modo said sheepishly as he allowed Rimfire to lead him towards the small stage area Duncan had made for the karaoke machine that day. Not exactly a stage per say, it was simply a clear space for the singer to perform in.

As he watched the two older mice follow the youngest of their brotherhood, Vinnie grinned and chuckled while cheekily making a whipping sound and flicking his wrist.

"What are you waiting for, handsome?" Charley asked with a raised eyebrow while sipping her beer.

"Nothing, babe," Vinnie said hurriedly while grabbing Throttle's arm and dragging him along behind him as he moved to join the others. "C'mon, bro."

"What? _Me_?Why do I have to go?" Throttle protested.

"Because we're bros…and if _we're_ gonna make asses of ourselves, we're _all_ gonna do it," Vinnie replied with a grin.

"Here, here," Stoker concurred with a chuckle as he looked over Rimfire's shoulder while the younger Martian looked through the songs.

"Besides…maybe it'll impress Anya," Modo muttered with a wink.

Throttle sighed. "Or send her running for the hills," he grumbled while covertly looking over his shoulder to see Anya congregating with the other women of the group.

"Seriously…_when_ are you gonna make a move?" Vinnie asked.

"I…I don't even know if she wants me to," Throttle said.

"Trust me, kid," Stoker said. "She _wants_ you too. I see the way she looks at you."

"'Sides…can't you smell her excitement when she's with ya?" Modo asked.

Throttle smiled softly. "Well, seeing as how we're either going into battle or coming back from battle, I always chalked it up to adrenaline…"

"Trust me, Throttle," Stoker said as he rested a hand on Throttle's shoulder. "As a man who's known and been with _lots _of women before I met my wife…I know the difference between adrenaline and desire…and the smell that spitfire gives off when she's near you is _not_ adrenaline."

"Sheesh, Throttle…even _I_ can tell she's crushing on you," Rimfire said with a grin as he looked at the tan-furred Martian over his shoulder.

"Remember, it's Christmas!" Jax called. "Pick something fitting!"

"Alright, babe," Rimfire called back before grinning. "Found one," he said while selecting the song and picking up the microphone. "Since there's only one, we'll pass it back and forth.

As the drum solo filled the bar, Jax cheered and jumped up and down in excitement. "Come on girls, our guys need some groupies!" she exclaimed as she hurried to the space whereupon she and the other girls proceeded to crowd around the Martians.

Rimfire grinned as he raised the mic to his lips. "On my heavy metal Christmas, my true love gave to me…a tattoo of Ozzy! On my heavy metal Christmas, my true love gave to me…"

"Two pairs of spandex pants…" Vinnie chimed with a wiggle of his hips which elicited a cat-call from Charley.

"And a tattoo of Ozzy! On my heavy metal Christmas, my true love gave to me…"

"Three studded belts…" Modo said before grinning bashfully at Emily's cheer.

"…Two pairs of spandex pants…"

"…And a tattoo of Ozzy! On my heavy metal Christmas, my true love gave to me…"

"…Four quarts of Jack…" Stoker said with a grin.

"…Three studded belts…"

"…Two pairs of spandex pants…"

"…And a tattoo of Ozzy! On my heavy metal Christmas, my true love gave to me…"

"…Five skull earrings…!" All the Martians said together.

"…Four quarts of Jack…"

"…Three studded belts…"

"…Two pairs of spandex pants…"

"…And a tattoo of Ozzy! On my heavy metal Christmas, my true love gave to me…"

"…Six cans of hairspray…" Throttle said only to grin softly when Anya cheered him on. The rest of the song was a blur to him. All he could see was Anya's smiling face as she jumped up and down like a fangirl and cheered him on. Closing his eyes behind his shades, he took in a deep breath and separated all the other smells and scents in the room until he found Anya's—savoring the sweetly, spicy scent which sent shivers down his spine. Opening his eyes, all Throttle could see was Anya gazing back at him as she moved and swayed to the music. She was so beautiful…

And she wanted him…_him_!

When the song ended, Throttle decided to finally throw caution to the wind and closed the distance between Anya and himself before cupping her face gently in his hands and tilting it up to claim her lips in a kiss. Anya's lips were soft, and Throttle could not stop himself from wrapping his tail around Anya's narrow waist when she slid her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Though shorter than Carbine had been while alive, the soft curves of Anya's body fit perfectly against the hard, planes of Throttle's, and not once did the fiery red head fight him as he pressed her tighter against him. Electricity coursed like quicksilver through Throttle's body, and he felt as though he was awakening from a long slumber.

When he finally, and slowly, broke the kiss, Throttle simply gazed down into Anya's eyes—delighting at her still quickened breath and flushed cheeks. "I've been wanting to do that for a while," he whispered softly.

Anya slowly licked her lips then grinned softly. "What in the Hell took you so long?"

Throttle laughed softly. "I have _no_ idea…but I'd like to do it again, if it's alright with you."

Anya smiled and stood on tip-toe until her mouth was mere millimeters away from Throttle's. "This is me not fighting you," she whispered only to be silenced by the tan-furred Martian's kiss.

Around them, their friends erupted into applause and cheers.

"It's about damn time," Charley said with a smile as she leaned into Vinnie.

Vinnie grinned widely as he nuzzled his wife's hair while holding her closely in a one-armed embrace. "No shit."

* * *

_…Jax & Rimfire's quarters; later…_

"I love you," Rimfire murmured against Jax's lips before allowing his head to fall back with a groan of pleasure as his wife clenched tightly around him. "Mother of Mars…yes…!" Shuddering, he lay back against the mattress and simply gazed up at Jax as she rode him. "Gods…you're _so_ beautiful…" he moaned with a smile while gripping his wife's perfect hips.

Jax grinned but her giggle turned into a gasping moan and her back arched as Rimfire jerked her hips forward. "God, I love you," she whimpered while speeding up and clenching around her husband's length as he leaned up and sucked her left nipple into his mouth. "I love you!"

They came together moments later—both of their bodies shuddering and arching as one as their cries of release created a beautiful harmony. Jax did not bother to release Rimfire from her warmth, and instead simply lay down and nestled into his chest and nuzzled his neck as her husband pulled the blankets over the two of them with his tail.

"I love _you_, and I already love being married to you," Rimfire murmured with a smile as he wrapped his arms around Jax and nuzzled her hair.

Jax smiled and kissed Rimfire's pulse. "You know what this means though, don't you?"

"What, babe?" Rimfire asked.

"It means you'll have to work even harder to come home to me every night," Jax answered. "Because I am _too_ young and pretty to be a widow."

Rimfire chuckled. "You got it, beautiful."

"But say it like you mean it," Jax said seriously.

Rimfire tightened his arms around his wife and brushed a kiss to her forehead. "I promise to come home to you every night. I swear it on my life."

Jaxxon raised her head and smiled down at her husband. "I'm holding you to that," she said before kissing him. "Sealed with a kiss."

"Sealed with a kiss," Rimfire agreed with a grin.

"Rimmy?"

"Yeah, Jaxie?

"Merry Christmas."

Rimfire smiled and lightly rubbed is nose against Jax's before kissing her lips. "Merry Christmas, baby."

* * *

**A/N**: It case you couldn't figure it out, the segments of song were from Twisted Sister's '_Heavy Metal Christmas'_.


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you everyone who's been reading my fic, and thank you so very much all of you who reviewed the last chapter!

******MorbidCrow:** As always, my dearest friend, thank you so much for letting me bounce ideas off of you. *huggles* You rock!

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters that you will find in this story, nor do I own anything else pertaining to Biker Mice from Mars (unfortunately -,-). I also don't own the character of Duncan who belongs to fellow FF/net member, and my very dear friend, MorbidCrow. However, all other OCs belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter 9  
**

* * *

_"You can slap me in the face,  
you can scream profanity…  
leave me here to die alone, but  
I'll still follow you home.  
I'll still follow you home."_

_-'Follow you Home' by Nickleback_

_…Throttle's room; two weeks later…_

It had been two weeks since their first kiss, and Throttle could not believe how easily he and Anya had fallen into their relationship. There had been no awkwardness and no pretending to be someone they were not because they had seen each other at their worst every night they were on the battlefield. They had put their lives in each other's hands time and time again, and now they longed to do the same with their hearts.

Despite the chaos that ensued up on the surface, and the reality that they could be killed at any moment, Throttle and Anya had eased slowly into their relationship. Because it had been so long since he had been with a woman, Throttle's nervousness had overshadowed his carnal needs, and he had been content to simply hold Anya for hours after they returned from their shifts—kissing and talking until they fell asleep in each other's arms. But tonight, Throttle finally felt ready to take things further, and Anya seemed more than willing to take the journey with him.

Sitting on the edge of his bed in the dim light of his room, Throttle held Anya on his lap, and his heart raced in excitement with every soft, content sigh that escaped the red head's smiling lips as he nuzzled her jaw—unable to get enough of her delicious scent and her soft her skin. One of his large hands rested on her hip and the other cupped the back of Anya's head—tangling gently into her crimson hair as his tail wrapped loosely around her thigh. Her skin was so soft…like silk, and Throttle could not get enough of it. He moved down and nuzzled the pulse in her neck before nibbling it, and he answered Anya's soft, pleasured gasp with low growl of arousal that only grew louder when Anya's little fingers tangled into his hair as she exposed more of her neck to him.

"Have I told you lately how much I _love_ that you got rid of your dreadlocks?" Anya asked in breathless excitement.

"Yeah?" Throttle asked with a grin before slowly tracing his tongue over Anya's racing pulse—growling softly in triumph when a soft, excited whimper escaped her lips.

"Yeah," Anya affirmed in an excited whisper. "I don't feel scared to touch your hair," she said with a playful smirk before shifting her position so she was straddling Throttle's lap. She kissed him deeply and pressed her body against his while removing his shades and placing them carefully on the nightstand.

A low, aroused groan escaped Throttle's throat when Anya slowly rocked her shapely hips against his, and his strong hands gripped her hips briefly before moving to cup her perfect bottom. Pressing Anya against the growing bulge in his pants, Throttle grinned when the flame-haired beauty shivered and whimpered in longing. "Is that all you wanna touch, babe?" he murmured softly into Anya's ear while nuzzling it.

"Uh, uh," Anya answered with a smile and a shake of her head as she slowly traced her fingers down Throttle's sculpted chest—lightly dragging her nails through the soft, tan fur. "I've waited a long time for the right guy to do this with, Throttle…and now that I finally found him, I plan on touching _everything_ of his."

Throttle's hands tightened on Anya's bottom and he pressed her tightly against him. "It's been a long time for me, Anya," he growled as he rocked his hips against hers—the bulge in his pants aching almost painfully now. "Don't tease me..."

Though Anya bit her lower lip, her whimper of longing still escaped at the feel of Throttle's rock hard length pressing against her through the barrier of their clothing. She kissed him before slowly climbing off Throttle's lap and spreading his legs so she could step between them. "Who's teasing?" she asked as she knelt on the floor before brushing kisses over Throttle's sculpted abs while her hands busied themselves with his belt and pants.

"I can't wait to rip those clothes off you," Throttle growled as he traced the tip of his tail over Anya's jaw.

Anya smiled. "And I can't wait to feel your naked body against mine as you fill me. But first thing's first…" She nibbled around Throttle's belly button while hooking her fingers into the waist of his jeans.

"Wha…what're you doing?" Throttle asked with a shiver as he raised his hips when Anya began tugging his jeans and briefs down.

"What? You've never had a blowjob before?" Anya asked before her eyes widened and her jaw dropped just a little when Throttle's length sprang free from the prison of cloth in which it had been encased mere moments before. "Jumpin' Jehoshaphat…"

Throttle grinned and chuckled at Anya's reaction before giving his head a small shake. "Couldn't, Annie-girl…buck teeth don't exactly allow for that." He shivered and groaned as his eyes fluttered closed when Anya slowly traced her tongue up the underside of his length. "Mother of Mars…" His head fell back with a wordless groan as his human lover swirled her tongue around the head while stroking the shaft slowly with one hand.

"Just sit back and let me take care of you, baby," Anya said with a smile as she gazed adoringly up at Throttle.

Throttle smiled softly and raised his head before reaching out and slowly tracing his fingers over Anya's cheek. "This may not be the best time to say this, but I'm gonna say it anyway, and I want you to know that I mean it. I love you, Anya," he said softly. "I really do…"

Anya's smile matched Throttle's and she leaned into his hand. "There's never a bad time to say that, Throttle…especially since I love you too." She pressed a kiss to Throttle's palm before softly blowing on the head of his throbbing length.

"Been a while, babe…" Throttle said breathlessly with a shiver as he gazed down at his beautiful lover. "Won't…won't last long…" How he had not exploded in Anya's face already, Throttle still did not know.

Anya smiled. "We've got all night, baby," she said before taking as much of Throttle's length into her mouth as she was able—her hand stroking and gently squeezing what had not fit.

As he watched Anya kneeling in front of him and worshiping him with her mouth, all rational thoughts flew from Throttle's mind and were replaced with pleasure the likes of which he had never felt before. "Anya…" He gripped the edge of the mattress with one hand while gently tangling the other in his lover's flaming hair and resisting the urge to thrust into her mouth. Anya's mouth was so warm…her lips so very soft, and the juxtaposing sensations of her velvet tongue and her little teeth moving along his throbbing length was unlike any other pleasure that Throttle had ever experienced. "Anya…oh, Anya…!"

True to his word, Throttle did not last long.

Throwing his head back, Throttle roared wordlessly in release and gripped Anya's hair tightly as he exploded in her mouth. Though his eyes were closed, he could feel his lover licking his length clean with slow, gentle strokes of her tongue, and his mind flashed back to the last woman who had done that to him. While Carbine had never been able to do what Anya had done, that had not stopped her from kissing and licking his length as a means of foreplay. The memory reminded Throttle of a time before everything he had ever known was destroyed before his eyes, and it flooded Throttle with a warmth that only intensified the deep euphoria he was feeling—leaving him unable to stop himself from saying the following…

"I love you, Carbine…" No sooner did the words leave his mouth, did Throttle's eyes snap open as the realization of what he had just said registered in his ears and echoed through his mind. _Oh, fuck…_ He righted his head and gazed down at Anya—his eyes widening and his heart halting at the look of stark betrayal carved deeply into Anya's face. _FUCK!_ "Anya…baby, sweetie, I can explain…" His heart felt like it was trapped in a vice when Anya's bottom lip trembled. "Aw, baby…don't cry," he said desperately as he leaned forward and reach out to cup her face in his hands.

"I _won't_," Anya snapped as she drew away and leapt to her feet—the raw sorrow in her eyes juxtaposed by the mask of rage upon her face. "I won't waste any tears on you, Throttle Thorneboy!"

As Anya turned on her heel and stormed towards the door, Throttle barely had enough time to jump to his feet and pull his pants back up before he caught up to Anya in two long steps and grabbed her arm. "Anya, stop," he said firmly. "I can explain. I-" He did not get a chance to finish because Anya's fist connected with his jaw with a loud crack.

"Don't bother! Just stay away from me!" Anya snapped before yanking the door open and storming out into the hall. "Out of my way!" she screamed at the couple that stood between her and the door to her room—pushing her way between them before throwing open the door to her room and slamming it shut behind her.

"ANYA!" Throttle hurriedly grabbed his shades from the night stand and slipped them on before running into the hall in pursuit—reaching Anya's door just in time to hear the resounding click of the deadbolt sliding into place. _No! Nonononononononononononnono!_ "Anya!" He pounded on the door. "Anya, open the door!"

"NEVER!" Anya screamed. "Go away!"

"Anya, I-"

"GO AWAY!"

Throttle raised his fist to pound on the door again only to have his movements stayed by the unmistakable sound of heart wrenching sobs coming from the other side. _He_ had done that. _He _had broken the heart of the only other woman he had ever loved. His arms ached to hold her and comfort her, and he longed to tell her just how much she meant to him, but instead he simply hung his head in shame. "Oh, Anya…" he whispered as he rested his forehead against the door while pressing his hands against it. He felt his heart shatter in his chest and he did not bother to wipe the tears from his face. "I am _so_ sorry…I'm so, _so _sorry…"

He slowly stepped away from the door and turned to walk down the corridor—ignoring the stares of the curious onlookers. He walked along mutely as his tears formed wet, dark trails down his cheeks, and he did not even look to see where he was going the entire time he walked—his feet automatically taking him to the place that had been his solace before Anya had come into his life.

Dragon's Den.

Throttle had not had a drink—a _real _drink—since the night he had punched Anya. Truth be told, he simply had not had the desire to do so. He had found a better alternative in Anya and her company, but now he fucked that up beyond repair because of one moment of stupidity. The pain he felt now was akin to that which he had felt after losing Carbine, except that this particular pain was fresh and thereby made the heartache far more intense. The pain in Throttle's heart was too much to bear, and all he wanted to do was crawl inside a bottle and drink until he felt nothing.

Nothingness…

That was what Throttle wanted, and it was for _that _reason that he mutely stepped over the threshold of the bar and silently made his way to the bar before taking his place on his usual stool and sitting in morose silence.

"Top 'o the evenin' to ya, stranger," Duncan greeted with a smile as he approached Throttle's end of the bar. "It's been a while, boy-o."

"Yeah…been a while…" Throttle agreed absently.

"The usual?" Duncan asked.

"What else is there?" Throttle asked flatly.

Duncan watched the Martian carefully as he poured him a shot of Southern Comfort. Even in the dim lighting of the bar, he could see the darkened trail of tears on Throttle's face. "Where's that pretty, flame-haired lass of yours?" he asked carefully as he slid the glass over—fearing that perhaps Anya had met her end upon the surface.

Throttle's hand closed around the glass and he stared down into the contents for several moments. "She's not mine…" He threw back his head and downed the shot. "Not anymore…"

Duncan sighed and refilled Throttle's glass before pouring a shot for himself. "I am _deeply_ sorry for your loss, lad," he said while lightly clinking his glass against Throttle's. "If anything happened to my Abbi…lord, I don't even want to think about it." He sipped his drink. "I'd be _beyond_ inconsolable if she died."

Throttle blinked. "Wha…?"

"Try to think of it like this," Duncan continued softly. "At least she's finally free of this horrible war. She's at peace."

Throttle stared blankly at Duncan for a moment before things finally clicked into place in his mind. "Wait, hold up…you think she died? She's not dead."

"You mean she's been captured?" Duncan asked with wide eyes. "Oh, dear lord…may God have mercy on her soul…"

"_No_," Throttle said while rubbing his forehead. "Anya's not dead, and she hasn't been taken prisoner. She just broke up with me." He downed his shot before hanging his head and sighing. "And I can't say that I blame her…"

Duncan slowly downed the rest of his shot to soothe his nerves. "Alright, now why do you say that?"

"Because I'm a fucking idiot, and Anya deserves _way_ better," Throttle said sadly before slamming his fist on the bar. "Fuck! I can't believe I was so stupid!"

"Throttle-lad…what happened?" Duncan asked with a sigh. "Whatever it is, it can't be _that _bad. What happened? Did ya not notice a change she made to her hair? Trust me lad, she'll get over it…even the most sensitive woman can't hold a grudge in these times of war."

"No, it's worse than that…" Throttle sighed. "There's no fix for what I did."

"And why is that?" Duncan asked as he began wiping down the bar.

Throttle sighed heavily while slowly turning the shot glass in his hand. "We were in the bedroom, and we were…doing things, and I…" He hung his head.

"Oh, saints preserve ya, lad…ya didn't call 'er fat, did ya?"

"No, are you kidding me?" Throttle asked incredulously. "She's perfect…and I lost her…"

"Why?"

"Because I called her by another woman's name," Throttle answered bitterly. "And now she thinks that I never really loved her, which is complete and total bullshit, because I _do_." He sniffed softly. "She's the only other woman I've ever loved…the other was my girl back on Mars…it was _her_ name that I called out when I…" He suddenly found both the bottle and his glass snatched away from him. "Hey…"

"Go," Duncan said firmly. "Get yer furry, Martian arse outta this bar and go tell that nice girl you're sorry."

"She won't listen to me," Throttle said pitifully. "I _tried_ talking to her, and she won't listen to me."

"Try harder, boy-o…crawl to her on yer knees if ya have to," Duncan said firmly. "Make her listen to you and make her realize just _why _she should give ya a second chance." He sighed softly. "Because _this _life as we all know it is far too short and filled with uncertainty to spend in anger an' resentment."

"Duncan…I dunno if—Ahhhhh!" Throttle suddenly found his head yanked to the side as Duncan grabbed a hold of his ear and tugged hard. "What the fuck? Let go!"

"Now you listen to me, and you listen good," Duncan said evenly. "It's a rare thing for _anyone_ to get a second chance in this life, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let you walk away from yours. Now that Anya is a lovely girl, and she straightened yer arse out. You'd be completely mad and fucked in the head to let her go, so march yer tail outta here and go win her back!"

Throttle was silent for a moment before he set his jaw in determination. "You're right. I love Anya…and I'm gonna fight like hell to make sure I get her back. But I'm gonna need my ear back…"

Duncan grinned and released Throttle's ear. "Freely an' gladly, boy-o. Now go win back your lady fair."

"You bet your ass, I will," Throttle said with a wide grin and a determined nod before jumping from his stool and running for the door only to run right into Modo.

"Figured I'd you here," Modo said darkly.

"Sorry, big guy," Throttle said as he patted the giant Martian's arm while easing around him. "But I gotta see about a girl." He found his way blocked by Modo again. "Come on big, guy…stop messing around."

"I'm _not _messin' around," Modo said firmly as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Now, I dunno _what_ you did to that poor girl, but _my_ heart broke at the sound of her cryin'. So the way I see it, you an' me are gonna have a _long_ talk. You might be happy to let _your _life go down the toilet, but I'll be damned if you drag Anya along with you," he said as his eye glowed.

Throttle held up his hands. "Look…I know I messed up, but it was an accident, and I swear that I'm going to fix it even if it kills me. I love Anya in a way that I've only ever loved _once_ before…she's my second chance at the life I've always wanted and I'll be damned if I'm going to let her get away, so either throw down or get the fuck out of my way," he said with a growl.

Modo stared down at Throttle for several moments in silence. "We're bros, Throttle…but know that if you hurt her again, I'm gonna skin you alive."

"Big guy…if I hurt her again, I'll skin _myself_ alive," Throttle said with a set jaw. "Now get out of my way."

* * *

_…Anya's room…_

Lying on her bed in the fetal position, Anya hugged her pillow tightly to her while sobbing softly into it as she mourned the broken pieces of her heart. On the other side of her door, she could hear Charlie and Emily—no doubt alerted to her distress by her earlier shrieking—trying to coax her to let them in. She could hear Vinnie and Modo as well as they too tried to convince her (until Modo had finally left), but Anya simply ignored them. She had no desire to speak to anyone. All she wanted at that moment was to dwell in the pain of Throttle's betrayal.

It was not the fact that Throttle still loved Carbine that upset Anya so deeply. After all, Anya still loved her late husband in a special way and could not blame Throttle for still carrying a candle for Carbine; but it was the fact that it had been _Carbine_ that Throttle had been thinking of while Anya had been on her knees pleasuring him.

_That_ had been the dagger to Anya's heart.

Having only ever been with one man before, Anya was not one who simply jumped from bed to bed, and the fact that Throttle had been thinking of someone else when _she_ had been thinking only of _him_ only served to remind Anya of the betrayal she had felt when she had caught Larry with another woman. Except in this instance, the pain was agonizing because she actually loved Throttle.

"Anya," Charlie called gently through the door while softly knocking on the door. "Come on, sweetie, open up."

"Yeah, come on," Emily added pleadingly. "We'll have some girl-talk. Wouldn't you like that? We can share this chocolate bar I've been saving."

"Please…please just leave me alone," Anya sobbed as she tightened her grip on her pillow.

"How about me and Modo go kick Throttle's tail?" Vinnie asked. "Well…it'll have to wait until he gets back from wherever he went, but when he _does _get back, it'll totally be on. How about that, cutie? Huh? Would you like that? Would that make you feel better?"

If Anya had cared less for Throttle, she would have jumped at the chance for pain or at least severe humiliation to be inflicted upon him, but she loved him too much for that. "No…just please leave me alone."

There was silence.

Then…

"Anya?"

Anya's eyes widened as the familiar smokiness of Throttle's voice made its way into her ears. "I don't want to talk to you."

"Please, Anya," Throttle persisted. "Please just let me explain."

"There's nothing I want from you," Anya sobbed. "Please go away!"

"Anya, I-"

"I SAID GO AWAY!"

"No," Throttle growled. "I'm not going anywhere until you open the door and let me in."

"Well, I'm not lettin' you in, so tough tacos," Anya snapped.

"Well, I'm not leaving until you let me in so I can talk to you, so _double_ tough tacos," Throttle snipped in return.

Anya growled and threw her pillow aside before jumping from her bed and stomping over to the door. "Well, then, I guess you're just gonna rot out there!" Anya shouted into the door with a stomp of her foot.

There was silence. Then…

"Fine," Throttle said evenly. "I guess I can't talk any sense into you. I guess you're _not_ worth wasting my time over."

Throttle's words hit Anya like a slap in the face, but it was the sound of footsteps walking away that hit her like a punch in the gut. "Throttle…" she whispered before undoing the deadbolt. "THROTTLE!" She threw open the door to run out into the corridor only to run directly into Throttle who wasted no time in wrapping his strong arms around her. Anya gasped in surprise before looking up. "You're here…"

"I am," Throttle answered softly as he held Anya close. "I never left."

"But…I heard you…" Anya said softly. "I heard you walk away after you said those horrible things…" She felt a new wave of tears rush to her eyes.

"I had to get you to open the door somehow," Throttle answered in a soft, but matter-of-fact tone as he moved his hands to cup Anya's face—his thumbs tenderly wiping away her tears. Oh, how it broke his heart to see her cry! "I could never leave you," he murmured softly.

Anya closed her eyes and simply reveled for a few moments in the tenderness of Throttle's touch before her eyes snapped open. "Why not? You obviously don't love me…not _really_," she said sadly as she pulled away. "If you did, you wouldn't have been thinking of _her_ while I was blowing you." She turned on her heel and stomped into her room. "You wouldn't have said that you loved _her_ while you were cumming in my mouth." She turned to slam the door shut behind her only to find Throttle there. "Get out."

"No," Throttle answered with a shake of his head as he shut the door behind him. "Not until you hear me out."

"Get out. I want you to leave," Anya said as she tried to summon up as much firmness as she could.

Throttle shook his head. "Lies," he said softly while taking a step closer to Anya. "If that was really true, then you wouldn't have tried to come after me just now. Please, just listen to what I have to say."

Anya sighed softly and averted her eyes. "Throttle…there's nothing left to say. I'm not _her_…I'm not Carbine, and I never will be."

"I don't want you to be Carbine," Throttle said as he gently but firmly gripped Anya's shoulders. "There could ever only be _one_ Carbine…just as there can ever only be one _you_. I love _you…you _are all I want now. You're the only one I could _ever_ want now."

"Then why?" Anya asked simply as she looked up at Throttle. "Do you have _any_ idea what you're saying Carbine's name while _we_ were together did to me? Have you forgotten just _why_ I got transferred here? And _that_ was because of how hurt I was over someone I didn't even really care that much about…but that pain was _nothing_ compared to what I felt when you showed me that you weren't even thinking about me when we were sharin' something special."

Throttle sighed softly. "I know how much that hurt, and I am _so _sorry I made you feel like you didn't matter. Believe me when I say that you _do _matter and that you're the most important thing in my life." He sighed once more. "I've never told _anyone_ what I'm about to tell you…that alone should tell you just how much you mean to me. Just like your husband was your one and only…so was Carbine for me. We were together for fifteen years, Anya…and while we may not have been married, in my heart, she _was _my wife. Now, I know that's not a real reason or excuse for what I did, but it's just…"

"It's just what?" Anya asked softly.

"It's just that…when I'm with you, I just feel _so_ happy," Throttle answered softly as he gazed deeply into Anya's eyes. "And I haven't felt that way in a long, _long _time. The last time I felt this happy and at peace was with _her_, and when I came…I was reminded of the _last_ time I came…which was with _her_."

Anya blinked and tilted her head to the side. "Wait…so you've never…not even with _yourself_? Since Carbine was killed?"

"Not even with myself," Throttle answered softly.

"Neither have I," Anya admitted with a soft blush. "I just didn't have the urge…but I didn't think guys were the same way…"

"Not all of us are," Throttle answered with a soft sigh. "I couldn't get it up because I couldn't see myself with anyone else that I could ever love as much as I loved her…not even in my head." He gently brushed his knuckles over Anya's left cheek. "Until I met you."

"Throttle, I…"

"Still don't believe me?" Throttle asked softly before gently pressing Anya close. "Here…let me prove it." He lightly touched his antennae to Anya's forehead and allowed her to feel the truth behind his words.

Anya gasped softly as she was suddenly flooded with intense warmth, and she could not stop herself from shivering and emitting the smallest of whimpers as the warmth translated into love and desire. "Oh, Throttle…" she breathed softly.

Having taken a small peek into Anya's mind, Throttle's eyes fluttered closed and he too shivered when he felt the depth of love and desire Anya had for him. "Mother of Mars, I love you," he murmured.

Anya slowly let out a breath in order to center herself as she all but melted into Throttle's body. "I love you too," she whispered softly while sliding her arms around his waist. "I didn't think I could ever love anyone after Brian was taken from me."

Throttle softly nuzzled Anya's hair. "I'm _so_ honored that you chose me," he murmured while tilting Anya's face up to his.

"But Throttle…as much as I love you and much as I _want_ things to work between us, I can't just pick up where we left off." Anya lightly bit her lower lip. "I can't just make love to you as though nothing happened tonight."

Throttle sighed softly while gently tucking a strand of hair behind Anya's ear. "I wouldn't expect you to, beautiful. I understand."

"Do you really?" Anya asked as she watched Throttle's face carefully.

"Yeah, baby I do," Throttle answered with a small nod before brushing a kiss to Anya's forehead. "And believe me when I say that I'm going to spend the rest of my life proving to you that you're the only woman I love."

"Throttle…"

Throttle lightly touched a finger to Anya's lips. "Throw me out…scream at me…ignore me…cut me from your life, it doesn't matter and will _never_ matter. I will fight for you every step of the way for as long as I have left on this world. You're my second chance at life and love…you're my _gift_, and I will _never_ let you go." He lightly nuzzled Anya's hair. "I won't ask you to do anything you're not ready for. When we finally make love, it's going to be on your terms…but that doesn't mean that I won't send you to the moon every chance I get without any expectations of you returning the favor."

"What're you sayin' exactly?" Anya asked.

Throttle smiled softly. "I'm saying that from now on, it's all about you…you and _only _you." He kissed Anya's forehead. "I'm your bitch and your slave for as long as it takes to prove to you that you're the only woman I love…and if that means the rest of our lives, then so be it."

Anya smiled softly. "I've never had a bitch before…" She sighed and gently cupped Throttle's face. "Babe…you don't have to do that. I want us to be partners…facin' all the crazy crap that this world throws at us side by side. That's the way my parents did it…it's the way Brian and I did it…it's the only way I know how to do things."

Throttle nuzzled Anya's palms. "And we will…just as soon as you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you're my future…" He lifted Anya into his arms. "And that I love you." He kissed her long and slow.

Anya moaned softly and slid her arms around Throttle's neck. "What did you have in mind?" she asked softly once the kiss had been broken.

Throttle grinned and flipped the light switch with his tail before carrying Anya to the bed. "I'm going to send you to the moon." Kneeling on the floor, he placed is lover on the edge of the mattress before removing his shades and placing them upon the nightstand. "That is…if you'll let me." His hands now rested upon Anya's hips, and he slowly traced his thumb over the button of her jeans as he gazed up at her.

Anya gazed down at Throttle in the darkness, and found that she could not deny him his request. "Okay," she answered softly before watching almost transfixed as her Martian lover unfastened her jeans and left soft kisses over her newly exposed abdomen—gently nipping around her belly button as he untied her boots and tossed them aside.

Throttle smiled in response to the shivers and soft sighs of pleasure his attentions rewarded him with, and his smile only grew when Anya automatically raised her hips to help him when he tugged down her pants and panties—gently nipping and kissing his way down her shapely legs as the creamy skin became exposed to him. He lightly nipped Anya's kneecaps while finally tugging off her clothing and tossing the items aside, and his hands wasted no time in caressing her legs—memorizing the curves of her ankles and calves as he began nuzzling up the insides of her thighs. When he drew closer to the vulnerable junction between Anya's legs, Throttle shivered and growled softly deep in his throat as his lover's scent—so very potent because of her arousal—wafted into his nose.

"Mother of Mars…"

"What is it?" Anya asked breathlessly—her entire body quivering with aroused anticipation.

Throttle smiled up at his lover. "You smell amazing," he said as he lightly nuzzled her warmth and deeply breathed the muskiness of her core—shuddering hard in primal delight.

Anya gasped and arched her back a little. "Really?" she asked softly.

"It's the best thing I've ever smelled in my whole life," Throttle growled while slowly drawing his tongue up to Anya's clit before delving his tongue deeply into her warmth—tightly gripping her hips to hold her in place as he shrugged her knees onto his shoulders.

Anya's eyes rolled into the back of her head which fell back as she arched her back. "Throttle…oh, God…" She shivered and whimpered in helpless delight while tangling her fingers into her lover's hair—unable to do anything else as she remained captive to the onslaught of Throttle's delicious torture. Throttle's tongue was so deep inside of her, and both his nose and buck teeth took turns in teasing her clit in ways that it had never before been teased.

It had been so long since this kind of attention—or any kind of attention for that matter—had been paid to Anya's womanly core, and it did not take long before she threw her head back with a wordless scream of release as her body trembled and her back arched hard. Falling backwards on the mattress, she panted and whimpered at the reality that Throttle showed no signs of stopping. "Throttle…Throttle I-" Anya broke off in another wordless cry as another wave of release rolled over her. She tried scooting away from the source of her orgasmic assault, but found her attempts thwarted when Throttle's hands tightened their grip upon her hips as he growled deeply in his throat.

"Oh, God…!" Anya's fingers tightened their grip on Throttle's hair and she could not stop the tears of bliss from rolling down her cheeks anymore than she could stop the euphoric smile from spreading over her lips as her vision began swimming. "Throttle _please_…! I'm gonna pass out!"

Throttle slowly pulled his tongue free of Anya's core, but not before he slowly stroked it over her sensitive nub. He could feel his lover's legs trembling on his shoulders, and he gently soothed them with slow strokes of his hands as he licked Anya's juices from his lips. "You taste so good," he said with an underlying growl as he nuzzled his way across his lover's hips before kissing her belly button. "I can't help but want seconds," he said with a grin.

"Oh, dear lord…not yet," Anya said breathlessly with a smile as she raised herself up on her elbows. "Come up here with me," she said softly." Hold me?" She shifted on the bed so her head rested on the pillow and so Throttle had room to lay down beside her. "Take your boots off…" she said as she slipped under the covers.

Throttle did as he was told and kicked off his boots before sliding under the covers with Anya and gathering her into his arms. His lips sought hers, and he groaned softly as his lover slowly explored his mouth with her little tongue. Not wanting to break the kiss just yet, he touched his antenna to Anya's forehead and allowed her to feel everything he wanted to say as he loosely wrapped his tail around her ankle and tangled his legs with hers.

The sudden flood of love and desire from Throttle was enough to send Anya over the edge yet again, she whimpered into the kiss as she clung to her lover's strong body.

Throttle smiled into the kiss before slowly breaking it. "I am _so_ sorry for making you feel any less like the precious treasure you really are," he murmured while softly kissing Anya's eyelids.

"How could I ever have doubted you?" Anya asked softly as she slowly ran her fingers through the fur on Throttle's chest. "I'm _so_ sorry for being such a bitch."

Throttle smiled softly while gently resting a hand over Anya's hand and pressed it to his heart. "Feel my heart beat, Annie-girl," he murmured as he gazed deeply into his lover's eyes. "Feel it and know that it beats only for _you_."

A single tear rolled down Anya's cheek, and she smiled softly as she softly kissed Throttle's lips. "I love you, Throttle."

"And I love _you_, Anya," Throttle murmured. "And I'm _never _letting you go."


	10. Chapter 10

Thank you everyone who's been reading my fic, and thank you so very much all of you who reviewed the last chapter!

******MorbidCrow:** As always, my dearest friend, thank you so much for letting me bounce ideas off of you. *huggles* You rock!

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters that you will find in this story, nor do I own anything else pertaining to Biker Mice from Mars (unfortunately -,-). I also don't own the character of Duncan who belongs to fellow FF/net member, and my very dear friend, MorbidCrow. However, all other OCs belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter 10  
**

* * *

_"But nobody knows what's gonna happen tomorrow_  
_We try not to show how frightened we are_  
_If you let me - I'll protect you - however I can_  
_You've got to believe it'll be alright in the end_  
_You've got to believe it'll be alright again."_

_-What Happens Tomorrow_ by Duran Duran

_…Stoker's office; the next day…_

On the cot that Stoker kept in his office for the times in which he could not tear himself away from work and go home, Sydney lay beneath her husband with her legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust into her with hard and deep strokes. Stoker's soft, silken fur tantalized and teased Sydney's skin, and only added fuel to the raging inferno of her pleasure. Even after three years of marriage, she could not believe how big Stoker was and how completely he filled her. Her soft whimpered moans of pleasure joined Stoker's pleasured groans in a unique harmony, and she tangled her fingers into her husband's long hair as he nibbled down the sensitive skin of her throat.

"Oh, Stoker I love you," she murmured into Stoker's ear while nibbling it. Her eyes widened when she felt the tip of her husband's tail teasing her clit. "I love you…I love you…!" She came moments after that with a shudder as her back arched, and Stoker was only seconds behind her—shuddering hard as he spilled his seed deep inside of her.

"I love _you_, Sydney," Stoker murmured with an underlying growl as he rolled the both of them onto their sides and simply help his wife close as they slowly came down from their euphoric high. His hands slowly traced down Sydney's back as he brushed soft kisses all over her face—his antennae lightly touching her forehead and channeling all the love and desire he had for her. He smiled when he felt his wife reciprocate his feelings, and his arms tightened around her just a little.

"Well…_that_ was unexpected," Sydney said breathlessly with a smile as she slowly ran her fingers through the soft, silken fur that covered Stoker's chest. Her smile turned into a playful grin as she recounted in her mind how she had gone to husband's office to drop off some copies of her research. Stoker had accepted the files with a kiss, and the kiss had led to heated making out which finally resulted in a passionate quickie that had only served to further remind Sydney just _why_ Stoker was the best sex she had ever had. "But it was by no means unwelcome…"

Stoker grinned and chuckled while nuzzling his wife's forehead. "So glad you enjoyed it, babe," he said as he rested a hand over the one Sydney currently had on his chest. "You sure you have to head back to the lab?" he asked with a sigh. "My shift is almost done…can't we just go to our room and have something other than a quickie?" His other arm tightened around Sydney's lithe and feminine form. "You're my wife Syd…you deserve more than just a quick screw." He refused to say 'fuck' in front of females. As much of a rogue as he was, he was still a gentleman where it counted. He slowly traced his fingers up Sydney's smooth arm as his tail wrapped around her thigh. "Remember when we actually used to make love…nice and slow…?"

"And several times through the night..often times only getting at most two hours of sleep before we had to be up for our shifts," Sydney finished with a delighted shiver as her smile grew. "Yes, I remember those nights…" Her abdomen clenched in longing at the memory of their two bodies intertwined in different positions that all resulted in ecstasy. "How could I forget?"

"Whatever happened to those nights?" Stoker asked softly as he gently smoothed Sydney's hair from her face.

"You got promoted to your current position," Sydney answered. "And the demands for neurotoxins and antidotes increased, so I started to practically _live_ in the lab."

"Oh, yeah…" Stoker said dryly.

"Sweetie, what's wrong?" Sydney asked as she moved her hands up to cup Stoker's face. "There's something bothering you, I can see it."

Stoker sighed. "It's just…I miss you, and I miss the way we used to be." He lightly touched his antennae to Sydney's forehead so she could feel his frustration. "All these quickies…they make me feel like I'm treating you like a whore, and I _hate_ feeling like that."

Sydney smiled softly while lightly touching her nose to Stoker's. "Oh, baby…I don't feel like a whore."

"Are you sure?" Stoker asked.

"I am," Sydney said with a nod. "You're the man in charge here, and _I'm_ at the front of the biological side of this war…I've come to terms with the fact that our work keeps us busy. I'm not crazy about it either, but I know that it's necessary." She smiled softly as she gazed into her husband's eyes. "But it's the thought of you, me and our babies after the war is over that keeps me going and striving every day to give the Resistance the upper hand." She took one of Stoker's hands and placed it with hers over her flat abdomen. "It's the knowledge that those frozen, fertilized eggs will in the future be growing inside of me that keeps me sane on the nights when I miss you so much I can hardly stand it."

Stoker smiled as he gazed into his wife's chocolate-brown eyes and laced his fingers through hers. "You're amazing, Sydney." He lightly kissed her nose then pressed a lingering kiss to her soft lips before grinning playfully. "I really picked a good one when I married you."

Sydney rolled her eyes playfully, though she did blush a little. "Please…you picked the _best_ one."

Stoker chuckled. "Yeah, I know." He captured Sydney's lips in a long deep kiss that left his wife breathless in the end.

"Well…now that I think about it, maybe I _could_ knock off from my shift at my appointed time instead of staying late like I usually do…" she said with a small smile as she lightly nibbled her bottom lip.

Stoker grinned slyly. "Why Doctor Von Rotten…you bad, _bad_ girl…"

Sydney grinned and giggled softly. "Oh, yes…I'm a _very_ bad girl. You might just need to punish me and teach me a lesson…" She shivered when Stoker's hand suddenly seemed to materialize on her bottom—cupping her right butt cheek.

Stoker lightly nipped Sydney's bottom lip. "I just might do that…I might just have to bend you over my knees and spank you…" he said with a soft, underlying growl of arousal as his red-brown eyes gazed deeply into Sydney's. He could feel himself beginning to grow hard again, and he sighed ruefully. "We better stop before we _can't_," he said huskily while slowly pulling out of his wife at last.

At the separation, Sydney felt immediately bereft, and she could not stop the small whimper of protest from escaping her lips as she pouted. She knew that Stoker was right however, and it was because of _that_ that she shifted into a seated position and began dressing herself.

Stoker chuckled as he too began dressing. "Don't pout, beautiful. Just think of what'll be waiting for you at home when you get off your shift."

Sydney grinned. "The same applies to _you_, oh sexy husband of mine," she purred while gazing over her shoulder at Stoker through half-closed lids. "Or have you forgotten the full extent of my libido?"

Stoker groaned and fought the urge to crush his wife to him once more. "Mother of Mars…this is going to be the longest shift _ever_."

* * *

_…Sydney's lab; later…_

"Excuse me, but who are you?" Sydney asked as she came to a halt in the doorway upon seeing a man she did not know peering into the cryogenic chamber that housed her and Stoker's fertilized eggs. Not recognizing the man at all, her hand immediately went to the blaster she kept strapped to her thigh and unhooked the leather strap that kept it secure to its holster—not drawing the weapon just yet, but allowing herself the opportunity to draw it should the need arise. She relaxed a few moments after the man turned to face her—taking a few moments to recognize the face of the man who had just joined her team. "Oh, Jenkins…it's only you."

"Feeling jumpy, Doctor Von Rotten?" Sam Jenkins asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Sorry," Sydney said with a sigh as she stepped into the lab. "I don't like people around my babies to begin with, but when it's someone I don't know or haven't quite fixed to my memory yet, I like it even _less_." She came to stand beside Jenkins and gave him a pointed stare. "So if you don't mind…"

"Sorry," Jenkins said with upraised hands as he stepped away. "Didn't mean to poke the mamma bear," he said with a chuckle. "So those eggs in there…they're really yours?"

"Mine and Stoker's," Sydney answered with a fond smile as she gazed through the thick glass. "They're fertilized and ready to be placed in my belly when this war is over."

"So…_you're_ really the one who discovered that procreation was possible?" Jenkins asked. "I mean, I heard stories back in Colorado before I was transferred here, but…"

"But what?" Sydney asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I dunno…I guess I was expecting someone older and less attractive," Jenkins said with a chuckle and a slow grin.

Sydney blinked before clearing her throat. "While I appreciate the sentiment, Jenkins…I'm a very happily married woman. Besides…you wear _way_ too much aftershave for my liking," she said as she fanned the air in front of her nose. "Would you please take a few more steps back? Seriously…_where_ did you find that stuff?"

"Hey, the guy behind the counter all those years ago said it would enhance my natural musk," Jenkins said with a mock-hurt expression.

"Boy, he sure saw you coming," Sydney said dryly. "But yes…to answer your question, it _was_ me who made the discovery. Just like it was me who also concocted the contraceptive serum."

Jenkins gave a small nod. "Ah…so in actuality…you're the savior of the Martian race."

Sydney gave a small, dismissive wave of her hand as a soft blush colored her cheeks. "I'd hardly call myself a 'savior'. I'm just a cog doing my part in the great machine that is the Resistance." Stepping away from the chamber she went to her work station and proceeded to sort through the reports and requests that had been dumped there by whoever was tasked with document delivery that day. She would sort them into piles assorted according to importance and deal with them in turn as was her pattern.

"Oh, trust me…you're more than just a cog," Jenkins said as he moved to one of the lab tables and leaned against it—his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "Can you imagine what would happen if the Plutarkians found out? You'd be the bane of their existence and they'd try to take you out."

"I'm well aware," Sydney said flatly as she continued sorting through her papers.

"Unless of course they saw value to your research," Jenkins said thoughtfully. "I mean think about it…it's obvious that they're suffering their own losses in numbers too. They might just steal you away so they can apply your research to their own situation so they can repopulate their species."

Sydney blinked and slowly turned her head towards Jenkins. "The amount of thought that you've put into this is…_disturbing_ to say the least. I just wanted you to know that."

Jenkins chuckled softly. "Yeah…that happens when my mind wanders. I start thinking about random things." He gave a small wave of his hand. "Theoretically though…do you think it could happen?"

"What?" Sydney asked as she looked back to her work.

"Procreation between humans and Plutarkians?" Jenkins clarified. "Do you suppose it could happen? I mean, they're aliens just like the Martians and you've proven that a joining of the species is possible with them."

"I really don't want to think about the image you're trying to paint, Jenkins," Sydney said with a small shudder of revulsion as the thought of human/alien fish hybrids. Somehow, she had a feeling that they would be horrific abominations instead of something awesome like mer-folk—or even Abe from _Hellboy_.

"But as a scientist…aren't you even just a little bit curious?" Jenkins pressed.

Seeing that Jenkins was not going to let the subject go, Sydney sighed and turned in her seat to face the scientist once more. "The fact that Martians and Plutarkians are both alien races has nothing to do with anything," she said. "What _does_ come into play is the fact that Martians are mammalian in nature in spite of their alien 'modifications', as it were," she said with forming air-quotes with her fingers. "Their genetic coding as well as their brain chemistry is very similar to our own. Plutarkians on the other hand are more fishy in nature than human. All of their internal systems from cardiovascular to reproductive are completely different from ours. That being said, I honestly don't know if a merging of the species is possible…or if let's say by some fluke offspring was created, I honestly don't know if it would survive after the birth or even make to full term. There are just too many differences."

Jenkins looked thoughtfully down at the floor.

Looking to the clock, Sydney smiled when she saw her shift was over, and she hurriedly finished with her sorting before pushing her chair back and standing. "In any case, I'm done for the day. See you tomorrow. Try not to work too hard."

Jenkins blinked and looked up to see Sydney making for the door at a quick clip. "You're off in a hurry. Got a hot date?"

Sydney grinned as she made her way to the door. "The _hottest_."

* * *

_…Dragon's Den; Two hours later…_

"Sing us a song, you're the piano man!  
Sing us a song tonight!  
Well we're all in the mood for a melody,  
and you got us all feeling alright!

It's a pretty good crowd for a Saturday,  
and the manager gives me a smile.  
'Cause he knows that it's me they've been comin' to see  
to forget about their life for a while…  
and the piano, it sounds like a carnival,  
and the microphone smells like a beer,  
and they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar…  
and say, "Man, what are you doin' here?"

Oh, la la la, di da da. La la, di da da da dum

"Sing us a song you're the piano man!  
Sing us a song tonight!  
Well we're all in the mood for a melody,  
and you got us all feeling alright!"

Jax jumped to her feet and cheered wildly for Rimfire as he finished his song. Bouncing on the balls of her feet while clapping and whistling, she knew she must have resembled that of a groupie, but she did not care. Rimfire's singing voice was not something her husband liked to brag about, but Jax loved hearing him sing—always looking forward to those nights when he would hold her in his arms and croon softly into her ear until she fell asleep.

"Woo! Good job, baby!" Jax cheered. "That's my husband," she said proudly. "_Mine_! So back off, ladies!"

Rimfire's smile was a combination of shy and proud as he returned to their table from the microphone, slid his arms around his wife and pulled her close before kissing her. "Careful, my geek goddess…" he murmured against Jax's lips. "You'll give me a big head." His eyes widened just a little and he felt his cheeks burn beneath his fur when Jax grinned and silently raised an eyebrow. "That's not what I meant," Rimfire said hurriedly.

"I know," Jax said with a giggle before kissing her husband's cheek. "But you're just so darned cute when you're flustered." Besides…who's to say I won't make good on that when we get back to our room?" She giggled again at the expression on Rimfire's face and lightly kissed his nose before glancing a little to the left and blinking. "Hey, look who just came in," she said while pointing over Rimfire's shoulder.

Turning his head, the young Martian caught sight of Modo, Emily, Vinnie and Charley entering the bar, and he waved in greeting. "Hey guys. Come on over and join us. Hey, Duncan, can we get a pitcher of beer over here?"

"Comin' right up, boy-o," Duncan said with a nod as he began filling the pitcher. "Abbi, my love…be a dear and carry the glasses for me?"

"Righto, my love," Abigail said with a smile as she swung her red pigtails over her shoulders before placing the proper amount of glasses on a tray and lifting it one-handed with practiced skill.

The duo made their way to the table just as the new arrivals were taking their seats, and they left the group to their business in order to tend to other customers as it was a busy night.

"Rimfire, Modo said you were singing just before we came in," Emily said with a smile. Still dressed in her scrubs, her golden hair was now free from its usual tight bun, and it was clear that the overworked nurse was enjoying her free time. "Was that really you? You sounded incredible."

"Aw shucks, Aunt Em," Rimfire said with a bashful smile. "Yeah…that was me."

"Dunno where he gets it," Modo said with a proud grin. "I can't carry a tune in a bucket…neither could his mom," he added with a small, fond smile.

"What about my dad?" Rimfire asked. "He died before Primer and me were born so I never got to know him, but _you_ knew him, Uncle Modo…didn't you?"

"I knew him well enough to know that he was a good man who treated my sister right," Modo said with a smile. "But he never busted out into song in front of me." His smile grew just a little and he reached around his wife in order to lightly nudge his nephew's shoulder. "But I'm sure you got it from him."

Jax smiled and kissed her husband's cheek before blinking and looking to Charley and Vinnie. "Where are Throttle and Anya? I've been dying to get that redhead behind the microphone, since I got the karaoke machine up and running. What say you, Em? Think Anya's more of a Reba or a Shania girl?"

Emily grinned. "I say she'll throw us all for a loop and end up being a Joan Jett girl."

"Oooo…intriguing," Jax said with a grin. "Well, that settles it. Now I _have _to know, and there's only one way to find out…and that's to get her happy butt over here and plunk her in front of the mic.," she said while looking back to Charley. "Point me in the right direction. Where is she?"

Charley exchanged glances with Vinnie while sharing a grin with him. "Last I saw, Throttle was lip-locked with that little spitfire of his and carrying her to his quarters. Between smooches, I think I heard him say something about rubbing her whole body down until she fell asleep."

Emily giggled softly. "Still making good on his promise to her, I see." She sobered a little. "I really _do _hope it works out for them…they're good for each other. They _need _each other."

"You ain't the only one hoping that, sweetheart," Vinnie said before raising his mug to his lips and taking a swig. "Anya forgave him for the punch to the jaw _and_ his calling out Carbine's name in the heat of passion, but I don't think she'd forgive him if he fucked up like that again."

Charley snorted softly and grinned cheekily up at her husband. "_Forgive_ him? Oh, Vinnie-honey, if Throttle fucks up like that again, and I'm not talking a little mistake or mishap, but if he _really _screws the pooch…he'll be lucky if Anya doesn't kill him."

Modo chuckled softly. "You remember how mad she was after Throttle punched her."

Vinnie snorted and grinned. "Yeah, I do. That was _epic_, bro."

Rimfire nodded and raised his own mug while draping an arm around Jax's shoulders. "Here's to hoping Uncle Throttle doesn't go making an ass out of himself again."

"Here, here," Jax said as she raised her own mug and lightly clinked it against her husband's. "And may they have a whole litter of ginger-haired tykes when this war is over," she added with a grin.

Vinnie grinned and he slid an arm around Charley's waist—pulling her onto his lap. "Not if we beat them to it."

* * *

**AN:** Sorry for the long delay, but I've been focusing mainly on finishing and editing my novel. The editing process still continues...

Oh, and the song Rimfire was singing was _Piano Man_ by Billy Joel.


	11. Chapter 11

Sorry for the long gap between updates, but well…real life would not be denied and as a result, my muse sort of wandered away for a while. Even now, inspiration is slow coming. In any case, sorry if the chapter sucks…

**MorbidCrow: **Thank you so much, my dear friend for encouraging me to keep writing.

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters that you will find in this story, nor do I own anything else pertaining to Biker Mice from Mars (unfortunately -,-). I also don't own the character of Duncan who belongs to fellow FF/net member, and my very dear friend, MorbidCrow. However, all other OCs belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

* * *

"_We're all young and naive still.  
We require certain skill.  
The motive changes like the wind."_

'_Young Blood' by The Naked and the Famous_

…_Two weeks later…_

"Two trays, Throttle?" Stoker asked with a raised eyebrow as he took in the sight of Throttle with a tray of food in each arm. "Either they've upped the cuisine around here, or you've got a gastronomical death wish." He gave Modo a small nod as he left with a small container of food—no doubt taking it to Emily who had gotten caught up in work and did not have time to get away.

Throttle gave his superior a small grin and a soft chuckle. "Nah…one of them is for Anya."

"I see…" Stoker said as he helped himself to some coffee. He glanced to the left to see Anya and Jaxon halfway towards the table where he saw Charley and Sydney already sitting. "So, your self-designated 'bitch duty' still continues?"

"Yep," Throttle answered with a nod. "I'm doing whatever it takes to show that little red head just how much she means to me."

"Well, I gotta hand it to you, kid…not many males would go through all this trouble for one female…not even Martians. Considering our current situation…they'd just cut their losses and move onto a female that was more receptive…"

"Yeah, well…I'm not most males, Coach," Throttle answered with a wry grin. "And Anya's not just some female…she's special."

"You mean she's like Carbine," Stoker supplied in a soft, but matter-of-fact tone. "I've seen it too, Throttle. There are times when I'm talking to Anya, and it feels like I'm talking to my niece again…"

Throttle shook his head. "No…there could only ever be _one_ Carbine…just like there can only ever be _one_ Anya." He sighed softly. "There are similarities between the two of them, sure…both brave, stubborn as all get-out, and loyal to a fault, but at their core…they're so very different."

Carbine would _never_ have allowed Throttle to see her cry…

"Well…similarities and differences aside, I'm glad you're sticking with her," Stoker said with a small smile as he placed his free hand upon Throttle's shoulder. "She's good for you…we can all see it. She's turned you around and helped you become the man you used to be before this war happened."

"Amen to _that_, Coach," Vinnie said as he approached and moved between Throttle and Stoker. "'Scuse me…gotta get some tea for Charley. She's not feeling too well." He prepared his wife's drink. "Stoker's right, bro…Anya's the best thing that's happened to you since this war started. Don't you dare let her go…or else Modo and me are gonna have to kick your tail."

"Count me in on that," Stoker said with a small nod.

Throttle's smile grew just a little. "Believe me, you two…you don't have to tell me twice just how lucky I am to have found her. I messed up and almost lost her once. I'm _not_ going to let that happen again."

"Good," Vinnie said with a wide grin. "Now, if you guys'll excuse me…" With that, the white-furred Martian took his leave of the two older males.

"Never thought I'd see that motormouth so happy to be off the market," Stoker replied with a grin and a fond shake of his head—nodding to Rimfire as he walked past them with his tray in one hand and an empty coffee cup in the other.

"I could very easily say the same thing about you, Coach," Throttle said with a small, but cheeky grin. "None of us had you pegged for the monogamous type."

Stoker's grin grew. "Neither did _I_," he admitted with a soft chuckle. "It just goes to show you what the right woman will do to a man. Now come on…let's not keep _your_ right woman waiting."

* * *

"Charley honey, are you okay?" Sydney asked as she watched the lovely mechanic from across the table and raised her coffee cup to her lips. She took in the sight of Charley's pale and slightly haggard appearance. "You don't look very well."

Her elbow on the table, and her head in her hand, Charley gingerly rubbed her forehead with a soft groan. "Yeah, I guess," she answered. "I think I'm coming down with the flu or something. I've been sneezing since yesterday, and this morning when I woke up, I felt achy."

Sydney leaned forward and pressed the back of her hand against Charley's forehead. "Oh, yeah…you've got a fever, sweetie. You should get yourself over to the medical hangar and get yourself checked out right away." She sat back in her chair. "If it's just something little like the flu, then Emily or one of the nurses can give you a shot, but if those fish-heads have somehow introduced some kind of pathogen into our environment, then me and my people have to get working ASAP on a serum."

"I don't think it's anything that serious," Charley said with a wry grin. "For all I know, it could be food poisoning. It's not like we're eating Cordon Bleu-quality food in this place." She chuckled softly.

"You got that right, beautiful," Vinnie said as he pulled back the chair beside his wife and sat down while placing a steaming cup beside her. "Here, brought you some tea…maybe it'll help?" He looked down at his tray of food before sighing and sitting back in his chair. "Man…what I wouldn't give for a Chicago deep-dish pizza…pepperoni, mushrooms, green peppers, sausage, extra cheese….eh, maybe some pineapple too."

"Oh, Vinnie…that sounds delicious," Sydney said softly. "That sounds really, _really _delicious right now."

"What sounds delicious?" Anya asked as she sat on Charley's other side while Jaxon made her way around the table and sat beside Sydney with her tray of food.

"Pineapple," Charley answered. "As a pizza topping."

"I _love_ pineapple on my pizza," Jax said with the smallest of whines. "Omigod, Vinnie…_why_ did you have to make me think of my favorite pizza topping? God…now I want pizza instead of this crap, and I can't have any!" She pouted while taking a sip of her coffee.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Vinnie said sheepishly.

"That's okay," Jax said with a sigh. "Other than delicious food though, you know what I miss?"

"What?" Vinnie asked.

"Movies," Jax answered. "I miss popping in a DVD, curling up on the couch and just having a good belly laugh while watching some on-screen shenanigans."

"Yeah?" Charley asked. "Which movies?"

"'_Fanboys'_," Jax answered without a second thought. "Or 'The _Gamers: Dorkness Rising'. _No matter how low I was feeling…those movies would always make me feel better." She smiled happily. "Those two movies appeal to my inner dork like you would _not_ believe…"

"Oh, I believe it," Vinnie said dryly, though he winked playfully at the younger girl.

"Quiet you," Jax said with a grin while pointing a finger at the white-furred Martian.

"Not bad," Sydney said with a grin. "But for _me_, it was always '_Real Genius'_."

Jax grinned and pointed a finger at the older woman. "See? Right there…that's why I love ya, girl. Geek power!" She held out her fist to be bumped.

Sydney giggled and leaned over with her own fist and bumped it against Jax's. "Geek power. Oh! '_Doctor Who'_…that was another one. Oh, how I miss '_Doctor Who_' and all the wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey goodness!"

"Yes!" Jax said with a vigorous nod. "Frakk! I'm never going to know what happens now," she whined.

"Naw, don't worry, baby," Rimfire said upon catching the tail end of his wife's lament as he approached the table and placed his tray down. "Hang in there…once the war is over, I'm sure you'll be able to track down all those lost episodes," he said while gently rubbing Jax's back. "There's nothing that sexy geek brain of yours can't do."

"You really think so?" Jax asked with a small, remaining pout.

"I know it," Rimfire answered with a reassuring smile. "Who knows…maybe you could even reboot the series…you know…start it back up from scratch."

Jax's eyes widened and she smiled excitedly. "Oh, I _so_ could do that…! So long as everyone over at BBC America is dead in any case…"

"For what it's worth though, I feel your pain," Sydney said with a commiserating smile. "I've been going through definite withdrawals. You know…I even had a Tom Baker scarf before this war started." She sighed and pouted. "It was destroyed though…"

Jax sighed heavily and folded her arms on the table before resting her chin upon them. "Do you know how awesome upon awesome it would be if I had a sonic screwdriver? This war would be over like _that_," she said with a snap of her fingers.

"What about the Tardis?" Sydney asked. "You could use that to go back in time and make it so the Plutarkians _never_ set foot on Mars."

"True…" Jax said softly before breathing a heavy sigh and shaking her head. "But then I wouldn't have met my man," she said as she hugged her husband's arm. "Because he and all the other Martians would've had no reason to come to Earth in the first place…and I don't know about _you_, Syd, but I just can't have that."

Rimfire smiled and nuzzled Jax's hair before brushing a kiss to her forehead. "I love you too," he murmured softly.

Sydney blinked. "Okay, point taken…I didn't think of that." She could not imagine her life without Stoker.

"And by the way…" Jax continued. "What was The Doctor's obsession with wanting to be ginger?"

"Um, _hello_?" Anya asked. "I think the more important question is why _wouldn't_ he be obsessed with bein' ginger. Bein' ginger is _awesome_!"

"Hell yeah," Charley said with a grin while holding out her fist. "Bump it, sister."

Anya grinned and chuckled while bumping Charley's fist with her own. "Respect."

"Word," Charley answered.

Vinnie groaned softly. "Okay…_never_ say that again," he said with a chuckle. "As much as I love ya, babe…you just can't pull that off."

"Whaaat?" Charley asked with mock offense. "I can be street."

Vinnie simply stared at his wife for a heartbeat before closing his eyes and slowly shaking his head. "No, no…oh, _so _much no…"

"Oh, so much no _what_?" Throttle asked as he carefully placed both trays down on the table before taking his seat in the chair beside Anya.

"Charley was tryin' to be 'street', and apparently Vinnie wasn't havin' it," Anya answered with a grin before leaning in and pressing a kiss to the corner of Throttle's mouth. "Thanks for this," she said while motioning to her tray with a nod of her head.

"Don't thank me yet, beautiful," Throttle said with a wry chuckle. "Food looks kinda questionable today…not sure how good it'll taste."

"Please…I _know_ you've had worse swill than this before," Stoker said with a chuckle as he sat beside his wife and put his cup down upon the table. Only, he bumped into the table a little and the cups rattled—threatening to spill the fluids within.

"Oy, watch it spaceman," Sydney said with a British accent while hurriedly grabbing her and Stoker's cups in order to steady them.

"Oy, watch it Earth girl," Stoker replied with a British accent without missing a beat.

Jax's eyes widened. "SQUEE! Stoker, you're a Whovian? You just got even more awesome!"

Stoker grinned and chuckled. "Earth Radio stations weren't the only things we picked up on Mars before this whole war started. We picked up your television broadcasts too. But yes…I _am_ a fan of the good Doctor." He gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "What's not to love about time and space travel?" He sighed heavily. "I'm just glad that the Plutarkians can actually be killed…" He looked to Jax. "Can you imagine us going up against something like the Daleks or even the Cybermen?"

"Cybermen are at their core robots," Jax said after a moment of thought. "All that would be needed was some kind of virus to be uploaded to their main hub, and they could be shut down easily enough. But Daleks…" She shuddered before chuckling wryly. "Yeah…we'd pretty much be screwed."

Anya blinked then looked around the table. "Am I the only one feelin' lost?"

"Don't look at me," Vinnie said with a shrug. "I checked out right around the Tardy thing she was talking about."

"Tardis, Vinnie," Jax corrected. "Tar-_dis_. It stands for Time and Relative Dimension in Space."

Vinnie blinked then gave his head a small shake. "Yeah…there's no way I'm gonna remember that," he said matter-of-factly with a small grin.

"Well, you could if you _tried_," Jax replied.

"Nope…not gonna happen," Vinnie replied with a shake of his head.

"But _why_?" Jax asked.

"Just because," Vinnie answered with grin that only grew when the lovely nerd blew out a puff of air in slight agitation. Though Married and more mature than he once was, he would _never_ get tired of teasing girls.

Charley laughed softly and lightly smacked Vinnie's shoulder. "Be nice and pay attention," she admonished playfully.

Sighing melodramatically before pouting, Vinnie turned his attention back to Jax. "Okay, sweetheart…tell me about Doctor Whosit…" he said with a teasing twinkle in his eyes.

"Doctor _Who_," Jax corrected.

"Who?" Vinnie repeated.

"Exactly," Jax said with a smile and a nod.

"Exactly what?" Vinnie asked.

Jax blinked. "What?"

"I'm asking _you_," Vinnie replied.

"You're asking me about _what_?" Jax asked with a look of confusion.

"Not _what_," Vinnie said with a shake of his head. "_Who_."

As Vinnie and Jax went around and around with wordplay, Anya closed her eyes and lightly rubbed her forehead before glancing to Throttle and leaning into his ear. "You know…for a genius, she's not very smart, is she?" she asked in a soft murmur.

Throttle chuckled softly and loosely wrapped his tail around Anya's waist. "Oh, trust me, beautiful…Vinnie can short-circuit anybody with that mouth of his. It's his special gift."

Giggling softly, Anya leaned back into Throttle as he rested his chin upon the top of her head and simply watched the 'show'. That is until Throttle started to rub her shoulders, at which point her eyes fluttered closed as a content sigh escaped her.

"Well?" Vinnie prompted Jax.

"Well _what_?" Jax asked with an edge of agitation.

"Tell me," Vinnie prompted with his grin still in place—completely ignoring RImfire's imploring looks to stop.

"Tell you _what_?" Jax squawked

Vinnie's grin grew just a little. "Not _what_…_who_."

Jax, realizing at that moment that Vinnie had been teasing her, finally lost her cool and pointed an accusing finger at the white-furred Martian with a growl—even as Rimfire tried to calm her down. "EXTERMINATE!"

Anya and Throttle, who had both fallen into a relaxed stupor, both gave a start—hands flying automatically to their holsters. However, once they realized that there was no actual threat, they relaxed once more.

"Ooo, not a bad Dalek impression," Sydney said as she and Stoker applauded.

"Though you might want to sound a _little_ more Germanic next time," Stoker added with a grin.

Vinnie for his part had doubled over in a fit of hysterical guffaws.

It was then that a chuckling Charley finally took pity on poor Jax, and lightly slapped her husband upside the back of his head. "Alright, Motormouth…_heel_."

Grinning, Vinnie barked before panting. He even gave his tail an enthusiastic wag.

Charley snorted softly and gave a fond shake of her head. "Dork."

"You married it," Vinnie said with a cheeky grin before stealing a kiss from his wife's lips as he pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her.

Grinning, Charley pressed a kiss to her husband's cheek. "Yeah…I know, and I've never had a boring moment since."

Vinnie's grin never wavered and his tail wrapped around Charley's ankle. "I aim to please, beautiful."

"And you do…" Charley replied with a growing grin. "In more than one way…"

Throttle cleared his throat. "And on _that_ note…c'mon. We've gotta report for duty."

Vinnie visibly pouted. "Killjoy…"

Stoker grinned and chuckled. "Keep it in your pants, Motormouth, and focus on your duties. You need your head in the game when you're on patrol.

"He's right baby," Charley said firmly. "I need you sharp so you can come home to me."

Vinnie's grin softened into a genuine smile and he cupped the side of his wife's face in one of his palms as he touched his antennae to her forehead. "Babe…even if I have to crawl out of the fiery pit, I will _always_ find a way to come back to you."

"That goes double for me," Stoker said as he turned to Sydney and tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear.

"And me," Rimfire said as he nuzzled a now calmed Jax's ear.

"And _me_," Throttle murmured into Anya's ear as he touched his antennae to her head. His arms and tail tightened around her. "No matter what happens…I will _always_ be in your corner," he murmured.


	12. Chapter 12

Okay, so the gap between this chapter and the last one wasn't that long. I cranked this chapter out in a day, so maybe there's hope for me yet! Keep your fingers crossed!

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters that you will find in this story, nor do I own anything else pertaining to Biker Mice from Mars (unfortunately -,-). I also don't own the character of Duncan who belongs to fellow FF/net member, and my very good friend, MorbidCrow. However, all other OCs belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter 12**

* * *

"_Little darling…  
I feel that ice is slowly melting.  
Little darling…  
it feels like years since it's been clear."_

_-'Here comes the Sun' by The Beatles _

…_A week later…_

"BLAINE!" Aries Von Ratzinger's voice bellowed angrily through the hanger once he pulled his bike to a halt.

Anya, who had just removed her helmet and shaken her red hair free, looked across the row to Throttle who had just dismounted Lady and rolled her eyes.

"No doubt he's pissed that you disobeyed his orders," Throttle said with a heavy sigh as he strode to Anya.

"I _had_ to," Anya replied as she dismounted Valkyrie before hanging her helmet from one of his handlebars. "He was leading us into disaster."

"I know," Throttle answered while placing a hand upon his love's shoulder. "The guy's a good enough fighter, but tactically…he's fucking moron."

"Why doesn't Stoker demote him or transfer him somewhere _else_ so he'll become someone else's problem?"

Throttle sighed heavily. "Because we're stretched thin enough as it is, and no one else has enough battle experience to be put in his place. Trust me…if Stoker had the option, Aries would be out of here _faster_ than the speed of light."

Anya looked up at her Martian. "Looking back on today…what would _you_ have done?"

"The same thing _you_ did," Throttle replied with a small, proud grin. "But you beat me to the punch, so Aries Von Shithead is taking out his anger on _you_."

"BLAINE! FRONT AND CENTER!"

Throttle growled low in his throat. "No one talks to my girl like that. Want me to go with you?"

Touched by Throttle's control, Anya tenderly touched her palm to his cheek before grinning and chuckling. "Nah…I've been yelled at by bigger and scarier guys than him," she replied before stepping away from Throttle and turning to stride towards the fuming Aries who was standing in the center of the hanger—a crowd loosely gathered around to see what was going to happen.

"Damn…that little woman of yours has got balls of steel," Vinnie remarked with a small chuckle as he came to stand beside Throttle—his red helmet tucked under his arm. "All the other Earthlings are at _least_ intimidated when faced with a raging Martian."

A small grin tugged at the corners of Throttle's mouth and he chuckled softly. "Yeah, well…once you've been in a shootout against a bunch of amped up meth-heads with military-grade firearms, a Martian with wounded pride isn't all that scary."

Vinnie chuckled. "Yeah, I guess that's true." He glanced up at Throttle—seeing the unease and displeasure upon his face at the prospect of his woman being threatened in any way. "You're going over there, aren't you?"

"Yup," Throttle replied simply before starting off after Anya.

"Right behind you, bro," Vinnie said while hanging his helmet on one of Sweetheart's handles before hurrying to catch up to the taller Martian.

Not even bothering to salute when she finally reached Aries, Anya assumed an at ease position and quirked her head to the side as she looked up at the fuming Martian. "You bellowed?"

Aries' tail swished angrily back and forth. "You _deliberately_ disobeyed my orders."

Anya gave a small shake of her head and rolled her eyes. "Seriously? You're _seriously_ bustin' my chops about that?"

"Of course I am!" Aries snapped as he glared down at the petite red head. "In case you've missed it, Blaine, we're in the middle of a war! The only way we stand a chance at winning is if we work as a team. That means no hot-dogging or trying to be a hero, do you understand me?"

Anya raised her eyebrows. "Wait a minute…you think I did what I did because I was trying to get some kind of medal? Here's a tip, bonehead…if I _hadn't_ disobeyed your orders then _none_ of the troops would've made it back tonight, and that includes _you_, oh fearless leader. You might wanna take a couple notes from Patton, Napoleon, or Washington, or anyone _else_ who's won their share of battles and wars, because _you_ need some serious pointers."

"Keep talking, Blaine," Aries snarled. "I'll have you thrown in the Brig for a month."

Anya gave a small shake of her head in disbelief. "There's gotta be more to it than _this_…some other reason why you're chewing my ass for saving the lives of the troops." She grinned. "Oh…_that's _it. You're just pissed 'cause your pride's wounded at bein' out-maneuvered and out-ordered by someone else…and not just someone _else,_ but a _girl_. Admit it, Aries…a _girl_ saved your tail, and you fuckin' know it." Her grin widened. "Oh…I bet that truth is just eatin' you up inside…"

Aries' muscled bulk trembled with his barely contained rage. "How about I wipe that shit-eating grin off your face?" he asked with an angry snarl.

Anya narrowed her eyes and drew herself up to her full height while placing her hands upon her hips. "How about I kick you in the nuts so hard you'll be pullin' them outta your fuckin' ears?" As always when she was angry, her drawl became thicker.

Aries narrowed his eyes and took a step towards Anya—hand raised with the intention of hitting her without any regard for the fact that she was not only a female but also much smaller and weaker than he was. "You little shit!"

Suddenly, Throttle was there—standing between Anya and Aries as a low, menacing growl rumbled deep in his chest as his hand caught Aries' fist. His shades were lowered just enough so the rage in his garnet-hued eyes was plainly visible.

Anya had not seen Throttle coming, and so she stood back in shock as she stared at the broad expanse of her Martian's back. "Geez, Throttle…" she muttered under her breath. "When did you become a ninja?"

"Back away _now_, Aries," Throttle snarled through his bared teeth as his tail swished violently. "Or I swear to Mars himself, I _will_ make it so you will _never_ use this hand again." To emphasize his point, he began tightening his grip around Aries' fist.

"_You _back away, Throttle," Aries snarled—refusing to back down with his prowess as a fighter now called into question. "This is between _me_ and your Earther bitch."

A series of gasps and angry words went through the crowd.

"Oh, _that's_ it!" Anya screeched while moving to dart around Throttle and launch herself at Aries—only to find a white-furred, muscled arm wrapped around her waist and pulling her back. "What're you doin'? LEMME AT 'IM!"

"Easy, tigress," Vinnie murmured into Anya's ear just moments before the audible sound of bone popping and snapping reached their ears only to be accompanied by the unmistakable sound of a fist meeting with a jaw.

Aries was on the floor clutching his broken hand and howling in pain—his jaw already starting to swell from where Throttle's punch had landed.

Looming over the fallen Martian, Throttle glared down at him and the entirety of his muscled body trembled in rage as his tail continued its violent lashing back and forth. "_Nobody_ calls _my_ female a bitch," he snarled. "You hear me, Aries? _NOBODY_!"

Anya, who was so used to fighting her own battles, could not help but smile softly—her heart feeling as though it had literally melted within her chest. "My hero…" she breathed in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

Cheers broke out amongst the crowds that had gathered to watch, and Anya tore herself away from Vinnie in order to launch herself at Throttle—her arms wrapping tightly around him as she nestled into him. Throttle wrapped one arm tightly around Anya, but kept his other hand ready in case Aries decided to try his luck.

The sound of an air horn being blown caused the cheers to die down and the crowd to part—revealing none other than Stoker standing silently with a grim expression on his face. Not saying a word, he began to slowly stride towards Throttle and Anya, only to watch as the latter moved so she was standing in front of Throttle.

"Stoker…" Anya began. "It—" She paused when the older Martian raised a hand.

"I saw and heard everything," Stoker answered before turning his gaze down to stare coldly at Aries. "I've been around a while…seen my share of war and ugliness. But _never_ did I think I would see the day when one of my people would even _think_ of harming a female after what happened on Mars," he snarled.

"She…she disobeyed my orders," Aries managed through the blinding pain, though his voice was a few registers higher.

"To save _others_," Stoker replied. "Any _other_ man would've been grateful and appreciative in the greater scheme of things, but not you. Oh, no…gods forbid that you be proven wrong in _any_ way. Now…I've been more than patient and tolerant of your general idiocy in your position of command because of your experience as a soldier. I put up with you because I kept hoping that you would grow up and pull your head out of your ass, but after what I've seen today, I can see just how _wrong _I was. Being a leader is more than just telling others what to do. It doesn't just mean being brave enough to lead men into battle. It means knowing when you're wrong…and having the balls to admit it. True leaders do _not _shift blame to others, and above all, true leaders do _not _attack those under their command." He turned his back on Aries and placed a hand on Anya's shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Anya nodded and smiled as Throttle protectively wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Yes, sir…Throttle made sure of that."

"As well he should've," Stoker replied with a proud smile before sobering and turning back to Aries. "You're out of here, Von Ratzinger. I'm relieving you of your command and putting you on the first transport out of here. I won't have any men who hit women here on my base." He looked to two Martians who were standing nearby. "Get him out of my sight."

The two Martians nodded before each hooking an arm under Aries' shoulders and dragging him away.

With them gone, Stoker sighed and turned—his reddish-brown eyes scanning the crowd before landing upon their intended target. "Throttle…congratulations. I'm promoting you to Aries' former position."

Throttle softly cleared his throat and gave a small bow of his head. "Thank you sir," he replied. "I promise not to let you down."

"I know you won't," Stoker answered with a small smile. "It'll take you out of most battles, but your leadership skills will be invaluable…and I know you'll bust your ass to keep our guys safe."

"Way to go, bro," Vinnie said with a grin as he clapped Throttle on the back.

"As honored as I am, sir…who will take _my_ place?" Throttle asked.

"Rimfire," Stoker answered after a moment of thought.

Rimfire pushed his way through the crowd and came to stand beside Throttle. "Sir?" he asked—unsure as to whether he had heard the older Martian correctly.

"How would you like to stop being called 'Rookie'?" Stoker asked matter-of-factly.

Rimfire's eyes widened a little and he cleared his throat in order to find his voice. "Are you sure, sir?"

"I am," Stoker answered with a nod as Modo pushed his way through the crowd. "You might be young, and you may not have as much experience as other squadron leaders…but you're a fast learner, you take advice readily, and you're quick on your feet." He gave the young Martian a smile. "You've been a rookie for a long time, but I think it's time we let you grow up."

Sensing his nephew's trepidation, Modo put a hand on his shoulder. "You can do this," he said.

"You really think so, Uncle Modo?" Rimfire asked as he looked up at the towering Martian.

Modo nodded. "You've been watchin' me, Throttle, an' Stoker for a _lot_ of years." He smiled down at his nephew. "You got this."

Rimfire smiled widely and gave a nod before turning his gaze back to Stoker. "I promise I won't let you down, sir."

Stoker smiled. "I know you won't," he replied before turning to look at the rest of the crowd. "Alright, everyone…show's over. Go about your business."

* * *

…_Anya's room; a little later…_

"I could've taken him, you know…" Anya muttered as she opened the door and stepped into her room.

A small grin tugged at the edges of Throttle's lips as he followed his beloved into the room and closed the door behind him. "Yeah…you and your tiny fists of fury," he said teasingly.

"Damn right," Anya said as she removed her jacket and draped it over the back of her desk chair before stretching her back. "Don't go knockin' my tiny fists of fury." At the sound of Throttle's chuckle, she turned to face the tan-furred Martian. "What?" she asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"You really can't help it, can you?" Throttle asked with his grin still in place.

Anya blinked. "Help what?"

"You are just all kinds of adorable."

Anya glared playfully after giving a small roll of her eyes. "Am _not_…" she drawled. "I'm fearsome and ferocious."

"Yeah, you _are_…there's no doubt about that," Throttle agreed as his smile grew just a bit. "But you're just so adorable when you do it. Kinda like a…like an angry little bunny."

"A _bunny_?" Anya asked with a look of disbelief.

"An _angry_ bunny," Throttle corrected. "I don't know whether to snuggle you or run for the hills."

"_Really_?" Anya questioned with a raised brow as she placed her hands upon her hips. "I'm an _angry_ bunny?"

"You can question it all you want," Throttle said with his grin still in place while crossing his arms over his chest. "I stand by what I said."

Anya tried to think of something snarky to say in response…but found that she could not. Gazing at Throttle now, all she could think of was how he had flown to her rescue and saved her from a battle that deep down inside, she knew she could not have won. True, things had worked out in their favor…but things could have just as easily gone against them.

But Throttle had not cared.

His only thought had been to protect the woman he loved regardless of whatever consequences befell him, and the reality of that warmed Anya from the tips of her toes to the tips of her ears. Closing the distance between the two of them, Anya wrapped her arms around Throttle's waist before resting her forehead against his chest. She sighed in contentment when his arms wrapped around her, and she shifted her head just enough so she could press a kiss over where she knew Throttle's heart was.

"I love you," Anya murmured.

Behind his shades, Throttle's eyes closed as he reveled in Anya's admission—his heart fluttering. "I know," he murmured in reply as he moved one hand up to gently cradle the back of Anya's head as his tail wrapped loosely around her waist. "And I love _you_."

"I know," Anya answered with a smile—knowing she was finally ready. Sliding her arms up Throttle's, she linked her hands together at the back of her Martian's neck before jumping up—knowing Throttle would catch her. With Throttle's hands now cupping and easily supporting her bottom, Anya wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him deeply.

Throttle's heart thundered in his chest, and he growled softly in response to Anya's moan as their tongues brushed and danced against the other. This kiss was different from the ones they usually shared. While their past kisses never lacked in passion or genuine affection, _this_ kiss was heated…

Hungry.

Throttle could smell Anya's arousal growing, and it served only to make him harden within the barrier of his pants and make them feel tighter. When those little fingers of hers moved up and tangled into his hair, Throttle turned and pinned Anya against the nearest wall. He expected her to suddenly stop and push him away when he pressed the evidence of his arousal against her, but he was rewarded with a shudder and an excited whimper. Growling in excitement, Throttle began to slowly rock his hips against Anya's in a pantomime of what he so longed to do with her—shivering and delighting at every pleasured moan and whimper that came from his hard bulge meeting and rubbing against her core.

"Anya…" Throttle growled upon breaking the kiss and drawing upon his last shreds of self control. "Anya…_please_ don't tease me like this. If…if you're still not ready, then tell me now…because I know I won't be able to stop if we go any further."

Anya slowly licked Throttle's buck teeth before leaning in and giving his ear a soft nip. "I don't want you to stop," she purred as her legs tightened around his waist. "We've both waited long enough. Go ahead and look inside my head…see just how much I _need_ and want you. _Feel_ just how much I physically ache for you."

Throttle slowly lowered his antennae to touch Anya's forehead, and he gasped as images of their two bodies tangled together in various positions as they mated and made love again and again hit him like a punch in the gut. "Mother of Mars…" he breathed huskily with a shudder.

"Take me, Throttle," Anya whimpered into her Martian's ear with an underlying desperation. "_Please_…I don't care if you have to rip the clothes from my body…I just _need_ you…!" Any further words were silenced by Throttle's hungry, possessive kiss, and Anya's heart raced in excitement as Throttle moved her away from the wall and began carrying her to the bed.

The moment Throttle placed Anya back on her feet, it took only a few moments for the both of them to strip each other of all their clothing. Anya's shirt proved to be a casualty of war, but neither of them cared as they took in the sight of the other's naked bodies. Dimming the lights, Anya reached up and removed Throttle's shades before shivering hard and whimpering when one of Throttle's hands found their way to the vulnerable juncture between her legs.

At feeling Anya so wet and ready for him, it took all of Throttle's self control to not spill himself all over his beloved's stomach. As it was, his throbbing member wept a little in anticipation as he sat down on the edge of the bed and gently but firmly pulled Anya down so she was straddling him. He shuddered as he felt the heat from Anya's core radiating against his length, and he claimed her lips in an almost desperate kiss. "I love you," he growled against her lips.

Anya rested her forehead against Throttle's, and her hands gripped his shoulders as she began lowering herself onto him. "I love _you_," she whimpered as she was gradually impaled and filled more than she had ever been filled before. "Oh, God…" she moaned desperately as she buried her face against Throttle's neck. "Oh, my God…!"

Throttle panted with the effort of not driving into Anya hard and fast. Instead, he nibbled gently around the shell of her ear and gripped her hips to hold her firmly down against him as he began thrusting up into her with long, slow strokes—shivering in ecstatic delight at the sensations that came from being enclosed and gripped within his lover's tight sheathe. She was tighter than Carbine had ever been. "Sweet…_sweet_ Mother of Mars…"

Anya clung to Throttle and pressed her body against his as her hips were held as willing hostages against his thrusts. His silken fur felt so decadent against her naked skin and only served to heighten her pleasure. Her head fell back with a whimper as her lover's length brushed against places inside of her that had until that moment remained unknown and untouched, and her whimpers only continued as Throttle kissed and gently nipped along her throat and collar bone.

Gently tangling a hand into Anya's hair, Throttle began to gently lean her back enough so he could lavish attention upon her breasts which until that moment had been squashed against him—his tail holding her securely so she did not fall backwards. Trailing his tongue down the valley between Anya's breasts, he nuzzled them each in turn and then slowly traced his tongue around the right nipple before suckling it into his mouth. Delighting in his lover's shiver as her back arched, he answered her desperate whimper with an aroused growl as he continued his assault—gently gripping the nipple between his teeth as his tongue teased it with flicks and swirls.

Her hands gripping Throttle's shoulders tightly, Anya's eyes rolled into the back of her head before fluttering closed. She could feel her orgasm building deeply within her hard and fast, and she was seized by the sudden desire to feel Throttle's weight pressing her into the mattress as he pinned her down and drove into her until they both succumbed to the ecstatic bliss that only release could bring. "Throttle…" she managed breathlessly between her whimpers and moans. "On top…get on top…!"

Both Throttle's arms and tail tightened around Anya and held her close as he stood then turned before laying his lover down on the bed with him on top of her. Kissing her hungrily, his fingers laced through hers and pinned her hands on either side of her head. He growled in delight when Anya's legs wrapped tightly around his waist and held firmly within her, and he could not stop himself from thrusting into her with harder strokes that his previous position had not allowed. He was rewarded with Anya's moans, which though stifled by their kiss, were by no means lacking in pleasured intensity.

"Harder…" Anya whimpered once Throttle had broken the kiss in order to nibble along the line of her jaw. "Harder…!"

Throttle could not stop himself from obliging his lover, and he drove into her now with an almost primal energy—his wordless growls and grunts forming a unique harmony with Anya's whimpers and moans until they both threw back their heads with wordless cries of release that seemed ripped from their very souls. Throttle did not stop thrusting until he had spilled every drop of his seed into Anya's womb, and even then, he did not pull out of her. Rather, he kissed her deeply and rolled the both of them onto their sides as his tail wrapped loosely around one creamy, shapely thigh as it draped over his hip. "I love you…" he panted breathlessly between kisses as he held his lover close. "I love you, Anya…!"

"I love _you_…Throttle," Anya replied breathlessly as she rested her forehead against his. "Oh, God…that was…that was…"

"Amazing…" Throttle finished as he gazed into Anya's eyes through half-closed lids.

"Yes…" Anya replied with a soft smile—her entire body glowing. "Beyond amazing, actually…" She shyly averted her eyes and slowly combed her fingers through the fur covering Throttle's chest. "It was…the best I ever had," she added softly.

Though Anya's words filled Throttle with a swell of male pride, Throttle still knew how much his lover had loved her late husband, and how difficult such an admission must have been for her. Tenderly kissing Anya's forehead, he gently tilted her face so she was looking at him again. "It was the best _I_ ever had too," he admitted softly.

Anya blinked. "Really?" she asked softly.

Throttle nodded. "As much as I loved Carbine…it was never this heated or intense…"

Anya nodded slowly. "It was the same way with me and Brian…"

Touching his antenna to Anya's head, Throttle allowed her to be flooded with everything he felt for her—all the desire and passion that was only intensified by his deep love. "While we may always love our past lovers…they're gone now," he said softly. "They are the past…but _we_ are each other's future." He lightly traced his fingertips over Anya's cheek. "There's no one else that I want, Anya…only _you_. I never thought I could love another woman after Carbine until I met you…but I know now beyond any shadow of a doubt that there will be no others after you."

Anya smiled softly and moved her hands up to gently comb through Throttle's hair. "Then God willing we both make it through this war alive…because I don't want anyone else but _you_."

Because his antennae still touched Anya's head, Throttle was able to see images of the both of them growing old together—living a full life and watching their children grow to have children of their own. They were such simple images, but they still filled Throttle's heart with such joy, and he smiled widely before claiming Anya's soft lips in a slow, deep kiss. "Keep those images close to you, Annie-girl," Throttle murmured after breaking the kiss. "We _will_ make it through this war together so we can make them come true. I promise."

* * *

…_Dragons Den; later…_

"To my man, Rimfire," Jax said with a smile while raising her beer. "The youngest Martian to ever be promoted to squadron leader…_maybe_!"

Rimfire smiled and laughed while resting an arm around her shoulders. "Naw, thanks babe."

"To Rimfire!" Was the consensus from Vinnie, Modo, Charley, Stoker, Emily and Sydney as they raised their own drinks from their places around the table.

"Where are Throttle and Anya?" Rimfire asked with a pout. "They should be here. I mean…I wouldn't have gotten this promotion if it hadn't been for them." He took a drink of his beer. "You know what? I'm gonna go get them," he said before pushing his chair back so he could stand.

"Yeah…I wouldn't do that if I were you," Charley said hurriedly.

"What? Why not?" Rimfire asked.

"Well…" She grinned impishly. "Let's just say that when I walked by Anya's room twenty minutes ago so I could change my shirt before coming here…I was hearing some very consensual noises coming from the both of them on the other side of the door."

Realization dawned upon the faces of all those around the table, and they all smiled in happiness and relief with the exception of Rimfire who still looked confused.

"Huh? What do you…?"

Jax kissed her husband's cheek. "Sex, baby…" she explained. "They were having sex." She giggled at the expression on Rimfire's face.

"Wild, jungle sex by the sounds of it," Charley added with a grin.

"Alright, Throttle," Vinnie said with a wide grin.

"About damn time," Stoker said while raising his beer before taking a drink. "I was hoping it wouldn't be much longer until those two worked things out.

Smiling, Rimfire raised his beer. "I'd say this calls for another toast. To Anya and Uncle Throttle…may we soon be hearing wedding bells."

The others around the table smiled and nodded before raising their drinks. "To Anya and Throttle!"


	13. Chapter 13

WOOT! Two chapters in two days! I'm on a roll! ;D

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters that you will find in this story, nor do I own anything else pertaining to Biker Mice from Mars (unfortunately -,-). I also don't own the character of Duncan who belongs to fellow FF/net member, and my very good friend, MorbidCrow. However, all other OCs belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter 13**

* * *

"_There's a battle outside,  
and it is ragin'.  
It'll soon shake your windows,  
and rattle your walls…  
for the times they are a-changin'."_

'_The Times They Are A-Changin' by Bob Dylan_

…_Medical Hangar; a week later…_

"Well, your pupils aren't dilated, so that's a good sign," Emily said as she took a look at Sydney's eyes. "So…what exactly brought you here, sweetie?"

"Queasy…all the time," Sydney replied tiredly. "I've been vomiting at the drop of a hat for the past week, and I've had more dizzy spells in the last two days than I've had in my entire life." She brushed her dark hair from her face and tucked it behind her ears. "Oh, and I feel like I'm operating on zero sleep, even though that's complete bull…" She sighed. "I must've caught something…can't you just give me a shot?"

Emily drew her eyebrows together and frowned. "Any achiness or fever?"

"No…thank God," Sydney replied while eyeing a nearby bedpan when she felt her stomach roil a little bit. "Don't think I'd be standing if that was the case. So, what do you say? Is there anything you can give me?"

Emily drew closer to the older woman. "Yeah…" she answered softly. "A pregnancy test."

Sydney blinked. "Excuse me? Would you care to run that by me again?"

"The symptoms you're listing off…fatigue, queasiness accompanied with vomiting, dizziness…they're all symptoms of pregnancy." Emily kept her voice low.

"But that's…that's _impossible_…" Sydney said as she began to blindly reach for the empty bedpan. "The serum…" Her dark eyes widened. "Oh, no…" Gripping the bedpan in her hands, she proceeded to empty the contents of her stomach.

Jumping up to sit beside Sydney on the bed, Emily held her hair back while gently rubbing her back.

Finished for the moment, Sydney raised her head as much as she dared. "The serum…Stoker's sperm must've developed…some sort of resistance. Oh, God…oh, God…I've got to get to my lab. I need to work on a new—" She vomited again.

"Easy," Emily murmured softly into Sydney's ear. "No need to panic just yet…now, I'm going to get you a cup to pee in and I'll conduct the test myself, okay? If I'm wrong, then there's something else causing your condition, and no one else need be the wiser."

Sydney nodded slowly. "Go get the cup…" She groaned and hung her head in anticipation for another bout of vomiting. "I'm not going anywhere…"

* * *

…_Ten minutes later…_

"Are you _sure_?" Sydney asked softly in disbelief.

"I ran the test _three_ times," Emily answered. "Each time, it came up positive."

Sydney held her head in her hands. "Oh, shit…" she groaned before slowly sliding off the bed and standing shakily on her feet. "Don't tell anyone yet. I'm going back to the lab to see if I can tweak the serum and replicate it so I can hand out new doses. I can't let this go beyond me…who knows how much longer any of the other women have before they start turning up pregnant too?"

"What about Stoker?" Emily asked. "What are you going to tell him?"

"I can't worry about that right now," Sydney said as she started for the door while biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from thinking about how the room swam or of how her stomach roiled. "I've got work to do…and I've got to do it fast." She stopped in her tracks then turned and hurried back to Emily."Get Charley tested too…she and Vinnie have been together longer than Stoker and I have…or any of the other inter-species couples in the Resistance for that matter."

Emily nodded. "I'll have her brought in right away."

"And until I get this serum sorted out…no nookie between you and Modo. Oh, and warn Jax and Rimfire," Sydney added. "As a matter of fact, issue a warning to _all_ couples who have been together for three years or more."

Emily nodded. "I'll have the doctors see to it right away. What about Throttle and Anya?" she asked.

"They should be fine," Sydney answered…as should any inter-species couple just starting in their physical relationship. It took three years for Stoker's sperm to develop an immunity to the serum, so newer couples should be fine." She turned and hurried for the door—pushing down her feelings of nausea.

Slowly letting out a breath, Emily walked towards one of the wall communicators. "Medical Hangar to the garage…please send Charley Van Wham over immediately." With that message done, she pushed the button again. "Medical Hangar to the computer lab…please send Jaxxon Maverick over immediately."

That done, Emily grabbed a fresh testing cup and then made her way to the nearest toilet—her heart thundering in nervous anticipation.

* * *

…_The surface…_

After mounting Valkyrie, Anya glanced over at Rimfire as he sat on his own bike and fidgeted with his gloves. "How're you holdin' up, buddy?" she asked as her right hand found and toyed with the heavy, silver, spiked cross earring she wore around a chain on her neck. Throttle had given it to her on the first night they had made love, but because it had been too heavy for Anya to wear on her ear, she did the next best thing and turned it into a necklace.

"Is it weird that I still feel nervous leading my squad into battle?" Rimfire asked as he looked to Anya. "I mean…it's been a week. Shouldn't I be used to it by now?"

"Nope," Anya said with a shake of her head as she gripped the spiked cross. "Because not every battle is the same…they all play out differently, and no one ever knows what to expect." She offered Rimfire a small smile. "_I _still get nervous, and I know your uncle does too."

"Really?" Rimfire asked incredulously.

Anya nodded. "Really," she answered. "Believe me…it's a good thing."

"Why?" Rimfire asked.

"Because it means that you're not dead inside," Anya answered. "It also means that you haven't given up…because if you _had_, you've be running blindly into the gunfire…not caring if you came out alive or not…or for that matter, caring if your squadron came out alive or not." She smiled. "The fact that you still get nervous only speaks to just how much you _do _care." She reached across the space that divided them with her free hand and gave Rimfire's shoulder a squeeze. "Believe me when I say that you're doin' good. You got this."

Rimfire smiled. "I never thought of it that way…thanks, Anya."

Anya nodded then raised the earring to her lips and pressed a kiss to it before letting it fall back down to dangle between her breasts as she zipped up her jacket. "Anytime," she said before putting on her helmet.

_-'Red and Gold Squadrons, do you read me?'_- Throttle's voice crackled into the earpieces of Anya's and Rimfire's helmets.

Anya motioned for Rimfire to put his helmet on. "Reading you loud and clear," she purred with a smile.

_-'Blue and Silver Squadrons have the horde covered from the front and the back. I want you and Rimfire to come in from the sides and box them in.'-_

"Copy that," Rimfire said with a nod. "We're heading out now."

Anya looked over to the young Martian while sliding her visor down. "You take the left flank, I'll take the right."

"Got it," Rimfire said while lowering his own visor with one hand while motioning with the other for his squadron to fall in behind him.

"See you on the other side," Anya said with a grin before revving Valkyrie and driving off with her squadron right behind her.

* * *

…_Anya's room; later…_

Their naked bodies still tangled together from their latest bout of lovemaking, Anya and Throttle smiled at each other as their breaths escaped them in pants as their hearts still raced. Their bodies still thrummed with residual excitement, and the musk of their combined scents hung around the room in a thick haze. While he was no longer inside of Anya, Throttle still held his lover close—loving the flush that colored her creamy skin as her hair hung around her face in a delightfully disheveled way.

Neither of them spoke.

Their eyes did the talking for them

In each other's eyes, they could see the love and devotion as well as the burning desire they had for each other. Any words they spoke on the matter at that moment would have been meaningless—detracting from the silent beauty of their souls merging and becoming one just as their bodies had done mere minutes before.

"I've got a surprise for you," Throttle said with a small smile after a few more moments as he nuzzled Anya's neck—growling softly in delight when he smelled himself on her.

Anya's eyes fluttered closed and she shivered in delight at Throttle's nuzzling. "Such as?"

Grinning, Throttle raised his head and kissed the tip of Anya's nose before untangling himself from her and rolling off the bed. He strode over to where he had dropped his coat—completely comfortable in his nakedness—and rummaged around in the pockets before turning back to face Anya with a can in his hand.

As taken as she was with the magnificence of Throttle's nude form even in the dim light of the room, Anya's eyes widened at the sight of the can, and she sat up before raising herself up onto her knees and squinting just a little to make out the label. Her eyes widened once more. "Oh, Throttle…don't tease me and say that's _not_ a can of peaches…"

"It _is_ in fact a can of peaches," Throttle answered with a smile as he made his way back to the bed and sat down as Anya reached across him so she could grab her Swiss Army knife from the drawer of her small nightstand.

"Where oh _where_ did you find it?" Anya asked she flipped out the small can opener that the knife came with.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," Throttle answered playfully as he took the knife from his lover and began opening the can.

"Ah, but if you killed me…then I wouldn't be able to do that thing with my tongue that you like so much," Anya countered with a cheeky smirk.

Throttle actually paused in his actions and softly cleared his throat. "Point taken…_definitely_ can't have that. Besides…I'd miss you too damn much," he added with a grin before brushing a quick kiss to Anya's lips before continuing on in his task. "Alright, the truth is, I saw the crate in the kitchen when I walked into the cafeteria before out shift, and I snuck a can while no one was looking so I could share it with you…I know how much you like them" The can was open now, and Throttle hooked a peach slice on the hook of the can opener. "Open up," he said with a grin that only widened when Anya tilted her head back and opened her mouth—closing it with a soft moan once the slippery fruit dropped into her mouth. Throttle could not stop himself from leaning in and slowly licking the juice that had dribbled down his lover's chin.

"I _love_ them," Anya corrected. "They remind me of my mama…" She took the knife from Throttle and hooked another slice before carefully feeding it to him. "When she was alive, she made the _best_ peach cobbler." Smiling softly, she rested her head against Throttle's shoulder. "I remember how the whole house would smell like cinnamon, butter and brown sugar whenever she made it." She sighed in longing. "You didn't even need to top it off with ice cream or anything…it would just melt in your mouth."

"Tell me about her," Throttle said softly as he fed Anya another slice. "Your mother, I mean."

"If she and Martha Stewart ever went up against each other in some kind of competition, my mamma would win," Anya said with a chuckle. "She was a stay at home mom…_always_ bakin' or cookin' something delicious. The house was always clean, and whenever any holidays came around, she'd make sure the house was decorated." She sighed softly. "I know she wished I was more girly…the kind of girl who liked baking and wearing dresses, but that just wasn't me, you know?"

"I'm sure she still loved you."

"Oh, I know she did," Anya answered. "When I was about to start high school, she got sick…cancer."

"I'm sorry," Throttle said softly as he put the can down on the nightstand in favor of wrapping his arms around Anya.

Anya sighed softly. "When we found out it was terminal…that's when I decided to grant my mamma her wish by bein' a girly-girl, so I joined the cheerleading squad during my freshman year." A small smile played over her lips. "I remember how her face lit up when I told her that I was tryin' out, and when I told her I made the team, she was _so_ proud that she baked me a peach cobbler…it was the last one she'd ever make." She curled her body into Throttle's. "She died a month later…"

Throttle said nothing, but rested his head against Anya's and tightened his arms around her.

"But I didn't quit the squad," Anya said softly. "I stayed in all the way through my senior year, by then I was Captain. I guess…I guess I just wanted her to be proud of me, you know?"

"I have no doubt that she was," Throttle answered before brushing a soft kiss to Anya's forehead.

Anya smiled softly. "I know she and my daddy both would've loved you."

"You think so?" Throttle asked with a small smile.

"I know it," Anya answered. "What about your mama?"

"She was all I had," Throttle answered. "I never knew my father…he was killed by sand raiders before I was born."

"Oh, Throttle…"

"I'm okay with it," Throttle said softly. "Like I said…I never knew him."

"I know, but still…"

Before Throttle could say anything else, there was a knock at the door.

"Guys…?" Vinnie's voice sounded from the other side. "Guys, are you there? Can we talk? It's important."

Both Throttle and Anya sighed.

"To be continued another time," Throttle said to Anya before kissing her lips. "Give us a minute," he called towards the door. Pulling on his pants, he handed Anya his jacket which she buttoned around her. Once he was certain his lover was decent, Throttle strode to the door and opened it. "What's up?" he asked upon seeing Vinnie, Modo, Stoker, Rimfire and their females.

"Whoa, bro…" Vinnie said the moment the strong smell of sex hit him.

Throttle rolled his eyes before turning and making his way back to the bed to sit on the edge beside Anya. "What is it, Vincent?"

Anya took in the sight of the large group. "Did someone die? Why are you all here looking like…looking like someone just lost a bet?"

Sydney sighed and hung her head for a few moments before raising it. "There's no other way to say it, so I'm just going to come out with it. Charley, Jax, Emily and I are pregnant."

"I'm sorry?" Throttle and Anya asked in unison.

"We're pregnant," Charley repeated—her face still a mask of disbelief even as she touched a hand to her still flat belly.

"All _four_ of you?" Anya asked incredulously while raising an eyebrow. "Did y'all make a pact or something?"

"It's not just the four of us," Emily said as she leaned into Modo as he reverently touched her flat belly. "It's every female who's been in a committed relationship with a Martian male for three years or more. Trust me…I did the tests."

"Wait…why three years or more?" Anya asked.

"Because apparently, it takes that long for Martian sperm to develop an immunity to the serum I created," Sydney answered. "So yeah…you two are fine…unless of course Throttle's got some super-sperm that I don't know about," she said wryly.

Blinking in shock, Throttle put his shades on so he could brighten the lights. "Judging by the looks on your faces, I'm thinking that I shouldn't be congratulating you guys?"

"I honestly don't know," Stoker admitted. "On the one hand, I'm delighted like you wouldn't believe," he said with a soft smile as he wrapped his arms around Sydney—both his hands resting upon her belly as he held her close. "But on the other hand…this is hardly the time to bring new lives into the world."

"Babies don't exactly keep calendars, you know," Anya said in attempts to lighten the mood.

Modo sighed. "I always dreamed this moment would happen…just not _now_."

Vinnie shifted nervously from foot to foot—his hand hovering uncertainly over Charley's belly. "What if I'm a bad dad? I don't want my kid to hate me…like I hated _my_ dad."

Charley grabbed a hold of her husband's hand and gently pressed it to her belly. "You _won't_ be a bad father, and our baby will _not_ hate you."

"She's right, Motormouth," Stoker said with a nod. "You know what _not_ to do." He offered the white-furred Martian a smile. "You won't make the same mistakes that your father did.

Anya sighed softly. "Well…aw, fuck it…" she threw her hands up into the air a little. "I'm gonna say it. Congratulations to all of you," she said with a genuine smile.

"Thanks," Jax answered with an uncertain smile. "Still don't know how good a mom I'm going to be…I always thought I'd have more time to prepare, you know?"

Throttle smiled. "Well…you're not going to be alone."

"He's right, "Anya said with a smile. "Not only do you four girls have each other to lean on, but you've got your strappin' men at your backs too."

Throttle cleared his throat softly. "So…what happens now? What does this mean for the Resistance?"

Stoker sobered. "It means that all actively-serving females who are pregnant will be pulled from the front lines. As much as it will diminish our forces, I _cannot_ allow pregnant females as well as their precious cargo to be put directly in harm's way."

Anya slowly let out a sigh. "Alright…no problem." She looked to Throttle. "It just means we need to tighten up our game, is all."

Throttle's smile was tired around the edges as he looked to Anya. "I'm up for the challenge if you are."

"Bring it on," Anya said simply.

* * *

…_Plutarkian Mothership; somewhere above Earth…_

Dressed in his trademark purple suit, Limburger stood beside a large table and peered down at the scale model of the Los Angeles base. His white-gloved hands matched the white spats on his feet, and were clasped neatly behind his back. Not a strand of his slicked and styled black hair was out of place.

Were it not for the horrifically pungent, fishy odor that radiated from him, he would have seemed completely out of place—a fat, 1930's gangster or crime lord somehow transplanted into an alien spacecraft.

Of course, the image was further broken when Limburger reached into a nearby jar of worms and pulled out a massive fistful of the squirming creatures before stuffing them into his large mouth—noisily slurping those that tried to escape. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth once he had swallowed the last worm, and when his ears became attuned to a familiar, high-pitched wheezing, he glanced over his shoulder.

"Is all in readiness, doctor?" Limburger asked silkily.

"Yesss, Your Cheesinessss…" Dr. Karbunkle replied with a wicked grin while rubbing his black-gloved hands together—hands that like the rest of his body were long, boney and spindly. "Everything is laid out for when our Earthling guest arrivesss. Oh, how I can't wait to pick her brain…" He cackled softly.

"Patience, my diabolical friend," Limburger chided. "Her brain is to remain exactly where it is until we have gotten everything we need from her. Once that has occurred, then you can do with her what you will," he said with a cold smile.

Karbunkle cackled and clapped his hands in glee. "Oh, thank you, Your Cheesinesss! Thank you!"

Limbuger chuckled coldly as he turned his gaze back to the model of the base. "I shall send a message to our contact immediately. Tomorrow, our plan will be set in motion."


	14. Chapter 14

WOOT! Just look at that! A third chapter! I'm on fire!

Thank you everyone who reviewed my last chapter. Reviews keep me going!

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters that you will find in this story, nor do I own anything else pertaining to Biker Mice from Mars (unfortunately -,-). I also don't own the character of Duncan who belongs to fellow FF/net member, and my very good friend, MorbidCrow. However, all other OCs belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter 14**

* * *

_"And look at the damage…  
the fortunes came for the richer men…  
while we're left with gallows…  
just waiting for us liars to come down and hang."_

_-'American Slang' by Gaslight Anthem_

_…Computer lab; the next day…_

Seated at her station, Jax supported her head with her left hand as her right typed away on the keyboard. Her eyes half-closed, she was in dire need of a nap. "Okay, seriously…the baby isn't even an inch long yet. _Why_ am I so exhausted?" she grumbled while reaching for a nearby cracker before munching on it aimlessly. Not particularly suffering from morning sickness, Jax was more interested in something that would break the monotony of staring at endless code.

Hence the snack.

Not even bothering to stifle her yawn, she continued staring at the streams of code that flowed across her screen. However, before she could write off everything as normal, something caught her eye and she immediately went on full alert. Sitting up in her chair, Jax backtracked through the streams before finding the one she was looking for.

"What the frak…?"

"Problem, Jax?" Byron asked as he came up behind the lithe brunette's chair—his red tail swishing slowly behind him.

"I don't know yet," Jax replied before pointing at the line which she now had frozen on her screen. "See this series of code right here? It doesn't match anything else in the other lines, and _I_ sure as hell don't recognize it, so I know it's not ours."

Byron clenched his jaw. "Can you find out what it is?"

"It's heavily encrypted," Jax said as she began moving her fingers over her keyboard. "But when has that ever stopped me?" she asked with a small grin—glad for the challenge. "Just give me a few moments…"

Byron narrowed his eyes as he stared at the screen. He did not like being duped in any way.

"Looks like a message," Jax said after a moment—her fingers never once stopping in their actions. "It was sent last night according to the timestamp…to someone's personal communicator. Let me just track where it came from…it could be from another base…you know…one of those 'for your eyes only' kind of things for someone higher up on the totem pole?"

"Maybe…maybe _not_," Byron replied as he watched Jax work. "Let's not get too comfortable until we find out."

"I hear that," Jax replied before narrowing her eyes. "The code's signature doesn't match any of the ones from the other bases…but it _does_ match Plutarkian codes. I can see it now…it took me a while because they changed up their game…tried to make their codes look more like ours." She growled. "Those bastards…! They're getting smarter."

Byron growled low in his throat. "Open it…but use extreme caution."

"Everything's backed up in the event of a crash or viral infection, so we're good on this end," Jax replied before her fingers went to work again. "Alright now…what are you?" she murmured as she worked to decrypt the message. "You can't hide from me…I'm the Oracle of this motherfucker."

"Wouldn't you have to be a red head for that?" Byron asked wryly.

"A Martian who knows his comic book heroines…a tip of the hat to you sir," Jax replied with a grin before hitting the final key. "There we go…" Her eyes widened as she read the message as it became transcribed across the screen. "Oh, shit…!" She jumped to her feet. "We've gotta get to the lab!"

"Not _you_," Byron growled as he gripped Jax's arm. "You're pregnant, so I want you out of harm's way." He hurried over to the intercom on the wall. "Computer lab to base security. We have a breach! I repeat…we have a breach! Get to Doctor Von Rotten's lab _NOW!_"

* * *

_…Sydney's lab…_

"I should've _known_ about you!" Sydney threw a beaker at Jenkins before ducking behind one of the desks. Her gun, as well as the intercom, was across the room which meant that until she reached either of them, she was at a severe disadvantage. "All those questions you asked…not to mention the aftershave. _No_ human man in his right mind would bathe himself in that smell unless he was trying to cover up some other stink!"

"I guess that makes you more stupid than you think," Jenkins snarled with a cold sneer. "Now…we can play this game all day, doctor…but _I_ have a mission to complete and a deadline to meet." He darted forward and threw the desk over—grabbing a hold of Sydney's ankle before she could escape. "And I don't intend to meet my end at the hands of those cheese-breathed rodents."

"LET ME GO!" Sydney screeched as she kicked out with her free leg—her foot connecting with Jenkins' face and distorting his face horribly as his mask was thrown off alignment. This gave her a split second to wriggle free of the Plutarkian's grasp before leaping to her feet and dashing for the door.

Jenkins snarled while fixing his face. "Wrong move," he hissed before leaping forward and tackling Sydney to the floor. The two of them rolled around on the floor, but it did not take long for Jenkins to pin the woman down before delivering a strong backslap to Sydney's face—her head cracking back against the floor from the impact.

Sydney groaned, and her vision swam before everything went dark.

"Nighty-night…" Jenkins hissed once Sydney had fallen unconscious and limp beneath him. Gathering her up in a fireman's carry, the Plutarkian spy dashed from the lab and ducked into the shadows mere moments before Security arrived on the scene. Running through the darker corridors, he flipped open a small communicator—not even bothering to encrypt the message before sending it out. "I have the target, but my cover's blown. Be ready to intercept at the rendezvous point in fifteen minutes."

* * *

_…On the surface…_

Throttle touched a finger to the intercom piece in his ear and narrowed his eyes a little behind his shades. "Run that by me again," he growled softly. "Copy that. Throttle out," he said with another growl once the message had been re-relayed to him. He switched channels. "Throttle to squadron leaders, be on the lookout for a renegade human on the run. Be advised, that he's a Plutarkian disguised as a human, and that he has Doctor Von Rotten in his custody."

_-'WHAT?'-_ was the collective cry from Modo, Vinnie, Anya and Rimfire.

_-'Sydney?'- _ Anya cried.

_-'How?'-_ Rimfire exclaimed.

_-'It doesn't matter,'- _Modo growled. _–'We're not letting him get away!'-_

_-'We'll keep a lookout, bro,'- _Vinnie's voice crackled through.

Before Throttle could say anything else, he was cut off by the sight of a familiar motorcycle racing past. "Squadron leaders, be advised…you've got Stoker coming in hot and fast!"

_-'I see him,'-_ Rimfire replied. _–'He's on my six!'-_

_-'And I see our renegade,'-_ Anya said. _–'I'm goin' in! Rimfire, lock onto my signal and follow with Stoker!'-_

_-'On it!'-_

"Be careful…!" Throttle ordered.

* * *

Anya could see Sydney lying limply across the backseat of the dune buggy as it continued at its break-neck speed, and she narrowed her eyes while leaning down on Valkyrie to limit her wind resistance. "C'mon, baby…pedal to the metal," she murmured to the bike which revved in response before putting on a burst of extra speed.

They began closing in.

"Ready blasters, baby," Anya murmured. "Focus on the driver…almost there…SHIT!" She was forced to swerve off course when Jenkins let loose with a barrage of blaster fire. "Alright…if _that's_ the way you wanna play it," she growled while reaching into a holster strapped to Valkyrie's side. "Change of plans, boy…shoot out one of the front tires. The driver's _mine_!"

Valkyrie revved in agreement.

Knowing her bike would continue on the course without her, Anya hefted the rifle to her shoulder and took aim. "Ready…FIRE!"

Both shots sounded and flew through the air—one taking out the right front tire while the other hit home through Jenkins' skull…

Which of course left the dune buggy driverless.

"Deploy grappling hook," Anya ordered through gritted teeth as she re-holstered her rifle. She watched as a compartment on Valkyrie's other side opened before a large arrowhead emerged. Moments later, the arrow was shot out at a great speed before penetrating the side of the buggy and expanding before gripping where it landed. That done, Anya began applying Valkyrie's brakes—gritting her teeth all the while as the bike struggled with the careening dune buggy.

After what seemed like an eternity, the dune buggy was finally pulled to a halt. Pulling off her helmet after putting down Valkyrie's kickstand, Anya slowly let out a breath before wiping her brow with the back of her gloved hand. "Syd?" she called. "Sydney, are you with me? Can you hear me?"

"I…I'm here," was the groggy reply as Sydney slowly sat up while rubbing her jaw with one hand and the back of her head with the other. "My head is killing me though."

"Let me help you out of there," Anya said as she hung her helmet on Valkyrie's handle and began to dismount. "Don't move…I'll be right-"

She never got a chance to finish her sentence.

Her scream combined with Sydney's echoed through her head as Valkyrie was suddenly shot out from under her and her entire world began spinning upside down in rapid succession.

"ANYA!" Sydney screamed as she pulled herself out of the buggy to watch in horror as her friend rolled along the torn ground before coming to a halt. "Anya!"

Anya groaned. "Shouldn't…shouldn't have taken off…my helmet…" she grouched while slowly pushing herself up onto her hands and knees. "I'm gonna be feeling _that_ for a while…"

"Anya, are you okay?" Sydney asked as she hurried over to the red head and dropped to her knees beside her.

"Yeah, Syd…I'm fine. I just—"

Suddenly, they were both encased in a beam of light, and Anya barely had enough time to shove Sydney out of the perimeter before she herself was being lifted skywards at a great speed by an invisible force.

"NO!" Sydney screamed as she looked up helplessly as her friend was taken away.

* * *

"ANYA!"

Not liking the idea of his beloved chasing down the Plutarkian spy on his own, Throttle had ridden off after her with Rimfire and Stoker.

Behind his shades, Throttle's eyes widened in horror as Valkyrie was shot out from under Anya-sending the red head flying forward several yards before crashing onto the torn up asphalt and rolling for several feet before finally skidding to a halt. His relief at seeing the red head push herself up onto her hands and knees was short-lived when he saw a beam of light shine down upon her and began drawing her up into the sky.

"NO!" Gunning Lady's engine as he grit his teeth, Throttle raced past Stoker and Rimfire at a breakneck speed—aiming for the beam with the intention of being taken up with Anya wherever she was being taken.

She would _not_ face her fate alone!

Unfortunately, for all his efforts, the beam vanished mere moments before Throttle arrived and left him staring up at the now empty sky. Pulling Lady to a halt, he dismounted and stood directly where Anya had been kneeling mere moments before. Completely ignoring Stoker as he rushed forward and gathered his wife into his arms while checking her for injuries, all Throttle could do was simply stare up at where his beloved had been only seconds before—his body beginning to shake…not with residual adrenaline, but with revulsion.

Twice now…

This was the second time Throttle had been unable to do anything else but _watch_ as his beloved was taken from him. This was the _second_ time he had been helpless to help.

First it was Carbine...

Now it was Anya…

He had failed them both.

He had lost them _both_ to the Plutarkians.

As the realization of that came crashing down upon him, Throttle was deaf to the words of Rimfire, Stoker and Sydney as they tried speaking to him. He did not even notice when Modo and Vinnie joined them. Modo might as well have not even placed his hand upon Throttle's shoulder, because the tawny-furred mouse did not even feel it.

How could he?

There was nothing else at that moment…

Nothing except for his failure.

Falling to his knees, tears form dark trails down Throttle's cheeks as they streamed down his face, but he did not bother to hide them…did not bother to wipe them away. The entirety of his muscled form trembling in his distress and despair as his breath began coming in short hiccups that bordered on hyperventilation, Throttle did the only thing he _could_ do at that moment…

Throw back his head with a wordless, primal roar of anguish that was ripped from his very soul.

* * *

**A/N:** I know it's short, but hopefully the next chapter will be longer :)


	15. Chapter 15

Firstly…

Happy New year, everyone!

Thank you everyone who read and reviewed my last chapter. Your reviews keep me going!

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters that you will find in this story, nor do I own anything else pertaining to Biker Mice from Mars (unfortunately -,-). I also don't own the character of Duncan who belongs to fellow FF/net member, and my very good friend, MorbidCrow. However, all other OCs belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter 15**

* * *

"_It's so strange when you're down and lying on the floor…  
how you rise, shake your head, get up and ask for more."_

'_When All is Said and Done' by Abba_

…_Plutarkian flagship; later…_

When Anya slowly regained consciousness, it was to find herself alone in a dark cell. Brushing her hair back away from her face and then tucking it behind her ears, she pushed herself up onto her knees and cast her eyes around the dim space in order to get her bearings. Her head throbbed, and her vision was a little blurred—no doubt a result of having been beamed. However, her vision cleared after she blinked her eyes a few more times. Gradually, her head stopped swimming and allowed her to form coherent thoughts.

Anya's first thought was protection. She had to protect herself in this strange place. Her hands flew to where she kept her guns only to find that they had been taken—including the one she had hidden at the small of her back under her jacket.

"Fuck…" she hissed softly under her breath.

It was then that a light flicked on just outside her cell and she was able to see that one wall was actually made of thick glass and faced out towards a corridor. Currently looking in on her from the other side of the glass was a large, thick-bodied man in a purple suit.

Anya blinked. "Okay, Grimace…where's Ronald MacDonald?" she asked dryly. _Okay…sense of humor intact. I'm good to go._

Limburger scowled a little. Not pleased with having to return to his own flagship from the lavish mothership in order to oversee the proceedings of his plan, he was even more annoyed at the plan's failure. "_You_ are not the one I was expecting."

"Happy to disappoint you," Anya replied with a smirk before rising to her feet. "Now, let's see…judging by that suit of yours and the fact that you're a fatty-fat walrus, I'm bettin' you're none other than Lawrence Limburger. Speakin' of which, I just _gotta_ ask…why do you name yourselves after cheese when you are so _not_ part of the dairy family?"

"No matter…" Limburger said with a small shrug as though Anya had not spoken—though his left eye _had_ twitched in response to her 'fatty-fat walrus' comment. "We will simply try again."

Anya snorted softly. "Please…if you _honestly_ think that the Resistance will let _another_ spy infiltrate their ranks after what just happened, then that mask you're wearing must _really_ be cutting off the flow of blood to your brain."

Limburger chuckled coldly. "You put entirely too much faith in the forces of your pathetic, rag-tag Resistance."

"Bold words coming from a guy who's up to his elbows in a war he can't seem to win," Anya replied with a small sneer that only grew when she saw Limburger's grin turn into a scowl. "Naw, wassamatta, anchovy-boy? Did I pluck a nerve, there?"

"You are not scientist," Limburger mused. "_That_ much is apparent. No…" He peered at the red head. "From your bravado as well as the way you carry yourself, I would wager that you are a soldier."

"Oh, give the man a prize," Anya drawled with a roll of her eyes. "Sorry, but I'm fresh outta givin' a crap about what you think."

A small grin tugged along the edges of Limburger's mouth. "You may still be of use to me."

"Oh, you think you can make me talk?" Anya asked with a quirked eyebrow. "You're barkin' up the wrong tree." She blinked and pouted a little. "Or in your case, blowin' bubbles up the wrong tree."

"Many think that," Limburger said with a low chuckle. "But you'd be surprised how even the most seasoned of warriors break under the hands of a skilled interrogator."

"Blah, blah, blah…bring it on, squid-for-brains," Anya retorted.

Limburger stepped forward until he was practically pressed against the glass, and he glared darkly at Anya. "Know _this_, human…you _will_ pay for your insolence."

Anya stared back at Limburger before blinking. "Oh, I'm sorry…was _that_ supposed to scare me?" She rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. "So far, all I'm hearin' is nothin' but a load of talkin'. If you wanna put the fear of God in me, you're gonna have to up your game…and I don't think you've got the grapes."

Limburger smiled coldly, and his eyes twinkled with malice. "You will regret those words, human," he said silkily.

"Oooo, I'm _so_ scared," Anya snarked.

"You _will_ be," Limburger purred with his cold smile still in place.

Anya crossed her arms over her chest and stood her ground while leveling her gaze upon Limburger's. "Bring it on, fatty."

* * *

…_Hospital hangar_…

"I'm fine, really," Sydney said while attempting to brush away Emily and Stoker's concern.

"You don't know that," Stoker said with worry etched deeply into his face. "What about the baby? What if our baby was hurt?"

Sydney pressed a hand tenderly to her husband's cheek and gave him a soft smile. "Our baby is fine," she murmured softly before kissing Stoker. "Trust me."

"Will you _please_ hold still?" Emily asked. 'I'm _trying_ to ice your head."

"Here, let me do it," Stoker said as he took the two compresses from Emily and held them against Sydney's jaw as well as the back of her head."

"Sydney!" Jax ran into the room with Rimfire hot on her heels. "Oh, Syd…I'm _so_ sorry I couldn't decode the message any sooner."

Sydney waved off the younger woman's concern. "It's okay…you decoded it and the alarm was sounded. That's all that matters."

Stoker shook his head. "That's not _all_ that matters." He lightly touched his antennae to his wife's head and allowed her to be flooded with the relief he felt at having her and their unborn child back safe and sound. "Thank you, Jax," he said upon turning his gaze to the computer genius. "If you hadn't stumbled onto that message…"

"What did they want with you?" Rimfire asked while linking his fingers through his wife's.

"They wanted what's in my head," Sydney answered. "No doubt Jenkins…or whatever the hell his name really was, told the Plutarkians about all my research. It's more than likely they wanted to see if it could be replicated on _their_ side of the fence since they're suffering their own losses." She sighed and hung her head. "But Anya made sure that they didn't get me…" she said softly—fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.

Rimfire's hand released Jax's so he could instead wrap an arm around her and draw her close. "She was protecting you and the baby," he said softly. "She knew what would've happened if you had been taken."

"That doesn't make it any easier to accept," Sydney said sadly as she allowed her head to fall against Stoker's shoulder. "Why wasn't I faster? If I had just…grabbed her…"

"Then you would've been taken right along with her," Stoker said grimly.

Emily softly cleared her throat. "How's Throttle handling this?"

"Not good," Vinnie answered as he approached.

"Where is he?" Jax asked.

"He's locked himself in Anya's room," Vinnie answered solemnly. "I think he's flashing back to what happened on Mars…"

"Shit…" Stoker hissed—forgetting for a moment he was in mixed company.

"Charley and Modo are trying to talk him out," Vinnie continued. "But they weren't having much luck when I left."

Sydney gently took Stoker's hands away from her head and took the compresses from him. "Go," she said.

Stoker blinked and looked down at his wife. "What?"

"Throttle needs you," she said with a sad smile. "Go to him."

"Yes, but _you_ need me too," Stoker replied—clearly torn between staying with his wife and going to help his friend and comrade.

Sydney leaned up and kissed her husband before sitting back and placing the compresses against her head and jaw. "I can very well hold these on my own. Do _you_ want Throttle relapsing back into how he was before he and Anya got together?"

Stoker sighed. "No," he admitted before kissing Sydney fully on the lips. He looked to Emily. "Make sure she stays off her feet."

"I promise," Emily said with a nod. "Go help Throttle."

"I'll stay here, Coach," Rimfire said by way of ensuring the older Martian that Sydney would not be alone.

Stoker gave Rimfire a small nod before lowly stepping away from Sydney. He then looked to Vinnie and motioned with his head towards the door. "Let's go."

* * *

…_Anya's room…_

Laying upon the bed he an Anya so often shared, Throttle gripped the sheets tightly and buried his nose in Anya's pillow as he deeply breathed in her beloved's scent—ignoring the knocks and pleading voices of Charley and Modo on the other side of the door. His and Anya's combined scents still lingered from the night before and wrapped around him as he clutched the sheets close, but Throttle felt no arousal at the memory of what the combined scents entailed.

All he felt was despair at having lost the one who made the memory possible in the first place.

Anya…

Throttle had failed her.

The Plutarkians had taken her from him just like they had taken Carbine.

If only he had been faster…

If only he had been able to join her.

If death awaited them at their final destination, then at least they would have died together…

Not him remaining alive on Earth without her while she died alone in some cold ship.

"Anya…" he murmured into the pillow. "Anya…I'm _so_ sorry…" He closed his eyes and two tears rolled down his cheeks. "I wasn't fast enough…"

"Throttle?" Stoker's voice sounded on the other side of the door. "Throttle, open up."

"Leave me alone," Throttle called back. "Go an be glad in the fact that your wife is alive and safe…because of _my _Anya," he added bitterly.

"I'm well aware of what happened, Throttle," Stoker said patiently from the other side of the door. "But that's no excuse for you to lock yourself up. We have work to do."

Behind his shades, Throttle narrowed his eyes. "_Work_? I've lost the second woman I've ever loved in my entire lifetime, and you want me to get back to _work_?" With a snarl, he leapt to his feet and rushed to the door before punching it hard. "Oh, yeah…everything is all well and good on _your_ end, so never mind what _others_ might be feeling! Is _that_ it?"

"Throttle, calm down." Though Stoker's voice was still calm, there was the slightest of growls behind it.

"No! I won't calm down!" Throttle snarled as he furiously unlocked the door and flung it open so he could glare at Stoker—ignoring Modo, Vinnie and Charley. "Why should I? _You're_ calm enough for all of us!" His tail swished angrily. "And _why_ is that? Because _your_ female is alive!" He knew he was close to crossing a line, but at that moment, he simply did not care. His shoulders shook and he punched the door frame in attempts to stop giving into his desire to fall to his knees and weep. "But what about _mine_? She sacrificed herself for _your _wife because _you _couldn't keep her safe!" He closed the distance between Stoker and himself so they were standing toe to toe and nose to nose. "Because of _you_…" His anger at Stoker dissipated and he once again fell prey to his own feelings of failure. "Gods…I lost her, Stoker…I _lost_ her!" Throttle finally lost the battle and leaned back against the door before slowly sliding down to the floor. "Just like I lost Carbine…" He buried his face in his knees and wept—not caring who saw him. "I couldn't save them…I've failed them both…! I had a second chance at love…I was given a second chance and I blew it!"

Tears streaming down her own face, Charley dropped to her knees beside Throttle and cradled his much larger body as best as she could. "Sssshh…it's okay, honey…just let it out." She gently stroked Throttle's hair. "Better out than in."

Stoker slowly let out a breath and glanced at Vinnie and Modo before slowly crouching down so he was at Throttle's level. "Throttle…listen to me, and listen good. There was _nothing_ you could've done to save Carbine. What happened to her was a terrible tragedy, but it was by no way _your _fault. What happened to Anya wasn't your fault either, but unlike Carbine…there's _still _a chance in which you _can_ save Anya."

Vinnie softly cleared his throat. "Um, Stoke…considering what happened on Mars…what the Plutarkians did…what makes you think Anya's still alive?" he asked carefully.

"Because this is different," Stoker answered as he looked over his shoulder at the white-furred Martian. "They were taking Sydney hostage, which means they wanted her for what's inside her head, which means they weren't planning on killing her right away."

It was Modo's turn to clear his throat. "But Anya's not Sydney…it won't take them long to figure that out."

"I know," Stoker said softly with a nod. "But Anya carries herself like a soldier, and I'm betting on the fact that those fish-heads are gonna try and pick _her_ brain to see what kind of advantage they can gain over us on the battlefield…in lieu of that, they might try to flip her…make her join their cause."

It was at that moment that Throttle stopped crying and slowly raised his head as he realized what Stoker was driving at. "She won't say anything…and she sure as hell won't join them," he said as he wiped his eyes before slowly rising to his feet—carefully pulling Charley up with him. "I know her…even when they're interrogating her…_torturing_ her, she'll laugh in their faces. She won't break."

"That's because she's strong, Throttle," Stoker said while placing a hand upon the tawny-furred Martian's shoulder. "She's a strong woman who's more than able to hold her own, but she's going to need _you_ to be strong too because her strength will only get her so far in her current situation. There's only so much torture that a body can take before it finally shuts down."

Throttle nodded slowly—his head getting back into the game. "Her running the Plutarkians around in circles will buy us some time, but it won't be long until they realize that they're not getting anything from her and then simply cut their losses by killing her. We have to work fast."

"And we _will_," Stoker said firmly as he gave Throttle's shoulder a squeeze. "Most men are lucky to find just _one _soul mate in one lifetime…you blessed enough to find _two_. You lost your first soul mate through no fault of your own…and as sad as that was, it led you to finding your second love, and I'm _not_ gonna let you lose her. I give you my word that we_ will_ get her back."

"Count me in," Modo said as he took a step forward.

"Me too," Vinnie agreed. "Anya's one of us…we're bringing her back."

Throttle nodded while slowly letting out a breath. "Charley…we're gonna to need a ship."

"Okay…what kind of a ship are we talking about here?" Charley asked as she mentally went through all the vessel remains that were in the garage.

"Something small and fast," Throttle answered. "Something that'll get us up to where Anya is."

"It needs to have a cloaking device," Stoker added. "Don't do anything special with the firepower, just basic blasters will do. The speed and the cloaking abilities are the main priorities on the wish list because this is a covert operation involving just the four of us. We can't afford for the Plutarkian fleet to open fire on us before we've accomplished our mission.

Charley gave a small nod. "I understand…and I think I have just the ship in mind. We've been working on it on the side in the event that the Resistance decided to ever scout around up there and give us an exact notification as to _when_ an attack would be launched so we'd be more prepared…but I'll make it my team's number one priority now. We'll get it done as fast as we can, even if we have to work around the clock."

"Just wear a mask, okay babe?" Vinnie requested. "Can't have you breathing in any fumes…oh, and you _will_ stop to take naps even if I have to carry you off to a cot myself," he added while crossing his arms over his chest.

Charley smiled fondly at her husband and his concern for her and their unborn child. "I promise," she said while crossing her heart. "And did I ever tell you just how cute you are when you get all 'protective daddy' like that?" she asked with a teasing twinkle in her eye.

Modo chuckled and smiled. "He's just lookin' out for his wife and baby, Charley-ma'am. Can't really blame a guy for tryin'."

"Yeah, what _he_ said," Vinnie said with a grin and a nod. "You're my wife, and my baby is growing in your belly. I've gotta take extra care of you now."

"I know," Charley said with a smile. "But it's still cute," she added while blowing a kiss to Vinnie.

"Thanks, Charley-girl…for everything," Throttle said with a small but thankful smile as he gently gave the lovely mechanic's shoulder a squeeze.

"You're not alone in this, Throttle," Charley said with a smile as she placed a hand over her friend's. "We're all here with you. We've _all _got your back…remember that."

"Yeah, bro," Vinnie said with a nod. "Bros until the end."

"Until the end," Modo affirmed with a nod and a swish of his tail.

Throttle's smile grew as he shifted his gaze between his four friends. "Thank you." It was all he could think to say, but the words carried a great deal of weight.

Stoker gave a small nod and a small swish of his metal tail. "Let's get to work. We've got a lot to do, and not a lot of time to do it in."


	16. Chapter 16

Thank you everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter. Your reviews keep me going! Sorry for the delay, but I've joined this new blogging team, and they've been keeping me _**very**_ busy! Then there's the fact that our things _**FINALLY **_arrived after our move, so unpacking has pretty much been ruling my life…not to mention, my muse kept going in and changing key things in the plot…such things make it hard to finish a chapter, lol.

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters that you will find in this story, nor do I own anything else pertaining to Biker Mice from Mars (unfortunately -,-). I also don't own the character of Duncan who belongs to fellow FF/net member, and my good friend, MorbidCrow. However, all other OCs belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter 16**

* * *

…_Sydney's lab; two days later…_

When Stoker walked into his wife's lab to check on her, it was to be greeted by the sight of her team all but tip-toeing around Sydney's desk as the pregnant brunette apparently slept with her head on her arms. Quietly making his way over, Stoker came to stand beside his wife and drop down to one knee in order to bring himself to her level—only to see that her eyes were in fact open and staring listlessly at the collection of petrie dishes. "Syd?" he asked while resting a hand upon his wife's shoulder and giving it a gentle shake. "Sydney, are you okay?"

"No," Sydney replied.

"What is it?" Stoker asked worriedly. "What's wrong?"

"You mean aside from the constant need to vomit, the physical exhaustion beyond anything I've _ever_ felt in my entire life…oh, and the never-ending guilt I feel over what happened to Anya and what's probably happening to her right now as we speak?"

Stoker slowly let out a sigh. "Yeah…besides that." Despite Sydney's apparent lethargy, Stoker could feel the tension rolling off of her. Whether it was a result of her pregnancy hormones or not, he thought it best to choose his words carefully.

Sydney sighed heavily and chewed on her bottom lip. "I'm a failure…a big, giant failure."

"Why would you even _think_ that?" Stoker asked.

"Because I've been working on fixing this serum since I discovered its apparent expiration date, and _nothing_ that I come up with works," Sydney replied.

"How do you mean?"

Sydney sighed and slowly turned her head towards her husband. "When I first created the serum, I took the hormones and chemicals from all the different internal contraceptives that women use to prevent against pregnancies. Well…not _all_ the chemicals. I weeded out the ones that lead to the negative side-effects like hemorrhaging and heart attacks."

"Okay, so wherein lays the problem?" Stoker asked.

"Before…back when I discovered the right combination and dosage of chemicals that made up the serum, whenever I injected it into an ovum and then introduced Martian sperm to the environment, the sperm would just swim away because it had no interest as a result of what I had just pumped into the egg…but that all changes after three years apparently. But now…" Sydney tiredly rubbed her forehead and let out a sigh.

"But now?" Stoker prompted gently.

"I thought that the logical solution to the problem would be to up the dosage of one or more of the chemicals," Sydney replied while raising her head and running a hand through her dark hair. "But no matter which combination of dosages I used…the results were all one and the same. Each and every ovum that I injected the new serums into…they blew up. They exploded."

Stoker blinked. "What do you mean they exploded?"

Sydney chuckled wryly. "I don't know how _else_ to say it, honey. They _exploded_. If I administer the new serum to human females involved with Martians, the best case scenario is completely irreversible infertility…the worst case scenario is death. Neither is hardly conducive to ensuring that both our races live on, now are they?"

Stoker slowly let out a breath. "And you've tried every combination of chemicals?"

"Yup," Sydney answered with a nod. "I've lost track of how many samples I've made with the different dosage combinations…but each one has resulted in total failure." She let her head to fall back onto her arms. "I suck."

"Okay…now I _know_ that's the hormones talking," Stoker said while wrapping one arm around his wife's shoulders and using his free hand to tilt and turn her face back towards his. "Now you listen to me, Sydney. You are without a doubt the most brilliant human mind I have _ever_ had the good fortune of knowing. The things you've done…the discoveries you've made have _all_ helped the Resistance by leaps and bounds. Whether it was the contraceptive serum, the antidotes and vaccines you created against whatever toxin the Plutarkians introduced to our environments…_you_ made it possible for all of us to continue onwards in our efforts." He brushed a tender kiss to his wife's forehead. "We couldn't have gotten this far without you, and I could not be any _more_ proud of you."

Sydney chewed on her bottom lip again. "But Stoker…the serum…"

"Its failure might just be Nature's way of telling us that it's time to stop avoiding the inevitable," Stoker said with a small smile. "This might be Nature's way of telling us all to put an end to this war instead of letting it drag on. Now…from you say about the expiration date, we've got anywhere from one to three years before all the females become pregnant, yes?"

"For those involved with Martians, yes," Sydney replied with a nod.

"Alright then…that means we have three years to end this war before we become completely outnumbered by the Plutarkians," Stoker said with a wry grin before shifting so he was cupping his wife's face in his palms. "Now, I don't know about you…but I plan to end it sooner than three years so I can be a father to our children."

Sydney smiled tearfully and her bottom lip trembled. "I love you so much," she sobbed as she wrapped her arms around her husband's neck and kissed him.

Stoker moved his hands down so he could wrap his arms around Sydney's waist and hold her close as he kissed her back. Deepening the kiss, he allowed his antenna to do the talking for him as he touched them to his wife's forehead and allowed them to flood her with every ounce of love and admiration he felt for her.

* * *

…_Anya's cell…_

"Hungry!" Anya called to no one in particular as she paced her cell. "Even Iraqis fed their POWs every now and again!"

When she was met with silence, Anya sighed heavily before leaning against one of the cell walls. Crossing her arms over her chest as she crossed her ankles, she looked down at her boots for a few moments.

Then…

"Still hungry over here!" she called while raising her head. "Could I maybe get a cookie? A cracker? A wedge of cheese?"

A clanging sound caused her to turn her head just in time to see a thin, sliver of a panel open up down by the floor before a metal tray was tossed inside. The panel closed a moment later, and for several moments, all Anya could do was stare at the contents on the tray.

"Okay…it's not like I'm asking for filet mignon, over here! A crust of bread would've been fine. Hell, I would've been happy with a bowl of watered down broth, but all y'all can take this tray of gelatinous, unidentifiable crap and stick it up your asses!" She peered down at the tray and wrinkled her nose. "If y'all think I'm eatin' this crap, then you're _all_ a bunch of retards!"

* * *

…_L.A. Resistance Base; garage; later…_

"How's it coming over here?" Throttle asked as he came to stand beside Charley who was overseeing the progress on the shuttle.

Having been forbidden by both Vinnie as well as Stoker from doing any heavy lifting because of her condition, her role had been reduced to more of a supervisory one—though she never hesitated in getting down on the floor crawling on the floor in order to do the finer and more delicate work that required a smaller set of hands. Vinnie of course remained ever watchful of his mate, and swooped in whenever he thought she was pushing herself too hard.

Charley looked up at Throttle. "It's coming," she answered while crossing her arms over her chest. "Slower than what I'd like…but when I'm not allowed to _really_ get in there and do what I _know_ has to be done, I guess that's to be expected," she added dryly.

"Complain all you want, babe…you're _not_ doing anything other than what you're doing," Vinnie said firmly as he came to stand on his wife's other side.

"But this would go so much quicker if I _was_," Charley protested.

"You think I don't know that?" Vinnie asked. "You're the best at what you do, babe…no one knows that better than Throttle, Modo, Stoker and me, but guess what you also are?" he asked as he rested a hand on his wife's shoulder. "You're pregnant with _my_ baby, and that means that you are _not_ going to push yourself as hard as you've been doing."

Throttle sighed softly. "Listen to him, Charley," he said while crossing his arms over his chest. "No one knows better than the Martians how important it is for us to have babies. After being faced with our annihilation back on our home planet, we've really come to know the value of life."

"But Throttle…what about Anya?" Charley asked worriedly.

Throttle's jaw clenched and his entire body tensed before trembling with his efforts to stay calm and restrained in the face of the very real danger his beloved was up against. "Anya's strong…" he said in a forced, strained voice. "She's a fighter." His tail swished back and forth in growing agitation. "She'll…she'll hold out. I know she will."

Vinnie looked over Charley's head and watched his tan-furred friend. After a few moments, he removed his hand from Charley's shoulder so he could reach around her and place his hand upon Throttle's arm. "We're gonna get her back, bro. I promise."

"I know…" Throttle answered softly as he stared at the shuttle. "I just hope we're not too late."

* * *

…_Karbunkle's lab…_

Karbunkle watched the monitor that looked in on Anya's cell. "Oh, it'sss been so long since I've had a female to play with," he wheezed with a smile while rubbing his gloved hands together with glee. "Their screams have a particular music to them, and I can only imagine the soundsss this particular prisoner will make." Though he was disappointed at not being able to glean Anya's brain as he would have Sydney's, he was nevertheless thrilled that he would have a live subject on his table to poke and prod for other useful information.

Of course, he would have been thrilled even if there was to be no interrogation…

Ever the sadist, Karbunkle would have been overjoyed to simply torture and experiment upon Anya for the fun of it.

Limburger chuckled softly as he watched Anya slowly pace back and forth within her cell like a caged animal. "Just try not to kill her, my deranged associate. Unlike the other humans we've captured in the past, _this_ one has a backbone. She might _just _be the one we need for that special project of yours."

"Very well…" Karbunkle grinned. "That just meansss that I can try out more toysss on her," he said excitedly before squealing in surprised when there was a sudden thumping sound. Looking at the monitor, he saw that Anya was now without a boot and staring up at the camera with her hands on her hips.

_-'Hey, I know you're up there! Is this part of your grand plan? Boring me to death? I swear…if I have to sing that Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer song again, I'm gonna hurt somebody.'-_

Limburger grinned and chuckled. "Oh, yes…such spirit. It will be such a pleasure to see it die." He looked to Karbunkle. "Ready your first toy, doctor. I will have her brought up within the hour.

* * *

…_Anya's cell; an hour later…_

Anya sighed and rolled her head on her shoulders as she continued her pacing back and forth within her cell.

All of her bravado aside, inwardly she was hoping and praying that Throttle would come for her before any torture began. Having taken her fair share of injuries and blows in the line of duty, both before and during the war, Anya's pain tolerance had grown higher than the average person.

However, Anya was no fool.

As much punishment as she could take, she knew being tied down and tortured was a far cry from fighting for her life against an armed criminal. Truth be told, Anya was terrified at what awaited her. Would it be worse than it originally would have because of her mouth?

Throttle knew better than anyone how Anya masked her fear with bravado. It was simply her way of dealing with what frightened her—of meeting a threat head on—when she was not in a position to be vulnerable. It was a pattern she had fallen into during her years in law enforcement, because sometimes when faced with terrifying situations, the only way Anya could function was to fool herself into not being afraid. There were times, however, when it took Anya little longer to downshift out of that mentality once a threat had passed, and it was then that her partner, her husband—and later, Throttle—was there to help. Throttle was always there to talk Anya down when she was still riding high on the adrenaline that kept her from being afraid.

But now, Anya was alone…

And her imagination was working overtime with every possible scenario of what she was about to face.

_Oh, Throttle…where are you?_

She clenched her fists and summoned her courage—willing herself to push her fear down. Throttle was not there, so Anya knew it was up to _her_ to hold out long enough until he or someone else came for her.

_If_ they came for her…

No!

So long as she was alive, Anya knew that Throttle would move heaven and earth to get her back. He would _never _abandon her. She felt it in her gut. That truth burned in her heart and gave her the strength she knew it would need. All Anya had to do was hold out until then.

She could do that.

The sound of footsteps approaching put Anya on full alert, and she stopped her pacing once she came to the center of her cell—facing the glass as she waited for whoever it was to make an appearance. She narrowed her eyes at the sight of Limburger. "What up, jelly-belly?" she drawled.

"Ever defiant, I see," Limburger hissed with a small smile. "I wonder just how far that defiance and courage will go in the days to come."

"Is that why you're here?" Anya asked while crossing her arms over her chest. "You here to take me in? All by your lonesome? Well…just color me flattered," she said with a roll of her eyes.

Limburger chuckled. "As well you should be…should our plans succeed, you will be quite invaluable," he said moments before a dart was shot out of the wall before sinking into Anya's neck.

"Ow! What the fuck?" Anya shrieked as her hand flew to her neck and pulled out the dart. Glaring daggers through the glass at Limburger. "_You_ are gonna be _so_ sorry you…" Her vision began swimming and she rapidly blinked her eyes in attempts to clear her vision. "You…" She took a wobbly step forward and had to brace herself against the glass to keep from falling to the floor as she fixed her narrowed eyes upon Limburger. "You…sonuvabitch…!" she managed to slur before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she crumpled to the floor in a state of deep unconscious.

Smiling coldly, Limburger tilted his head to the side and simply gazed down at Anya's prone body for several moments before finally pressing the intercom button on the wall outside the cell. "Security…pickup in cell two."

* * *

…_Karbunkle's lab; a little later…_

Anya groaned softly as she began to gradually return to consciousness. Her eyes slowly fluttered open, but her vision was horribly blurred. When it finally cleared, she was welcomed with the sight of none other than Throttle's earring dangling in front of her face from the chain she usually wore around her neck. The other end of the chain was gripped between Limburger's thick fingers. Anya narrowed her eyes. "That's private property," she said in a voice that was still thick and heavy with sleep.

"So _you're_ the one he replaced _her_ with," Limburger sneered. "Funny…I always thought he would take another brunette for a lover, but perhaps you remind Throttle of Carbine in _other_ ways, hmm?"

"That is _none_ of your business," Anya snapped before turning her head as much as she was able to in order to take in her surroundings. She was in some sort of laboratory and strapped to an examination table.

Limburger grinned and chuckled low as he snatched the earring and the chain away before stuffing them into his pocket. "Ah, but it _is_ my business, you fiery little thing. For you see…should our plan work, it will make the outcome all the more delicious."

"_What_ plan?" Anya asked.

Limburger simply laughed and turned on his heel before starting for the door. "Have at her, doctor…just remember what I said. _Don't_ kill her."

"Asss you wish, your supreme cheesinesss," Karbunkle hissed as he stepped into Anya's line of sight while rubbing his gloved hands in anticipation.

Anya raised an eyebrow. "Okay, I'll bite…how hard _did_ someone have to kick you in the balls to make you sound like an asthmatic, teenage girl?" She tilted her head to the side. "And while I'm asking questions…did your mama drop you on your head when you were a baby, or did she get it on with a butternut squash in order to make your head come out in that shape?"

Behind his tight fitting goggles, Karbunkle's eyes narrowed just a little. "We shall see how long your quick wit stayssss with you throughout the coursssse of our sessionssss." He grinned sadistically. "Any other quick-witted quips you'd like to share before we begin?"

Anya was silent for a moment before opening her mouth and murmuring an inaudible reply.

"What? What was that?" Karbunkle asked as he leaned in just a little.

Anya repeated her reply at the same volume.

Sighing heavily, Karbunkle leaned in the rest of the way. "What did you say?"

"BOOYAH!" Anya bellowed at full volume—grinning from ear to ear and laughing hysterically when Karbunkle literally was knocked off his feet in surprise. "Oh, that was _so_ classic," she cheered in glee as she watched Karbunkle assume the fetal position on the floor as he held his hands tightly over his ears and wait for the ringing to stop. "Aw, man…and here I thought you were supposed to be some kinda genius or something, and here you just fell for like the _oldest_ trick in the book!"

Snarling, a now fully-recovered Karbunkle jumped to his feet and brought his face mere millimeters away from Anya's with a cruel smile. "I hope you enjoyed your time of laughter, my little guinea pig…becaussse it _will_ be your lassst."

* * *

…_L.A. Resistance Base; garage…_

As he walked back into the garage from the nap that Stoker had _ordered _him to take, Throttle' ears became attuned to the unmistakable sound of a motorcycle revving uncontrollably. It did not take him long to recognize the sound of the engine, and he hurriedly made his way over to where the bikes were kept. Upon reaching them, he was greeted with none other than Valkyrie shaking violently while revving loudly.

Because of the companion AI chip that was embedded in every rider, he knew only too well that Valkyrie was reacting to Anya's fear and pain. Like the bike, Throttle was helpless to do anything but allow Anya to endure the experience—but unlike the bike, his mind was filled with all the different scenarios of what his beloved was enduring. Unlike the bike, Throttle had experienced the atrocities that the Plutarkians had to offer, and the fact that Anya was now in that position all _alone_ was enough to nearly bring Throttle to his knees in despair.

"Oh, Anya…" Throttle breathed softly. "Please, _please_ hang on…"

"Throttle?" Having seen the tan-furred Martian make a beeline for the motorcycles, Charley tore herself away from her work on the shuttle and hurried after her friend. "Throttle, what is it?" she asked upon reaching him. "What's wrong?"

Gazing down at Valkyrie with the entirety of his body tense, he gently rested a hand over the motorcycles headlight. "Easy, boy…" he murmured softly. "Easy…"

"Throttle?" Charley lightly touched the Martian's arm.

"Finish the shuttle soon, Charley-girl," Throttle pleaded.

"We're doing the best we can, I promise," Charley replied while giving Throttle's arm a squeeze.

"Yeah, well do better than that," Throttle countered perhaps a little more harshly than he would have liked. "They're hurting her…!"


	17. Chapter 17

Thank you everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Your reviews keep me going! I think I've managed to wrangle my muse so she doesn't keep changing key things in the plot…but we'll see how long that lasts, lol. I know this chapter is short, but I cranked it out tonight, and just couldn't think of anything else to add that wouldn't fit better in the next chapter. Hopefully the next one will be longer :)

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters that you will find in this story, nor do I own anything else pertaining to Biker Mice from Mars (unfortunately -,-). I also don't own the character of Duncan who belongs to fellow FF/net member, and my good friend, MorbidCrow. However, all other OCs belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter 17**

* * *

_"And if I only could…  
make a deal with God,  
and get Him to switch our places."_

- _Running up that Hill by The Faith and the Muse_

_…Resistance garage, four days later…_

"Easy, boy…" Throttle murmured as he tightly gripped the edge of the metal corral that had been make-shifted for the purpose of keeping Valkyrie isolated from the rest of the motorcycles. As the days progressed, Anya's trusted bike had grown more agitated and more volatile as his rider's torture worsened, and Stoker had deemed it best to separate the troubled motorcycle from the others in order to prevent massive damage to the other bikes.

For days, Throttle scarcely slept unless he was given a sedative and physically carried to a cot. He spent every other waking moment by Valkyrie's side. It was Throttle's lifeline, and for him it was also a double-edged sword. One the one hand, it was a relief to see the bike acting to erratically, because it meant that Anya was still alive. But on the _other_ hand, it meant that Anya was being hurt and abused while _he_ stood by and allowed it to happen. Every time Valkyrie's behavior calmed and stilled, Throttle was filled with an immediate feeling of dread.

Had Anya died?

Had her body reached the breaking point and given up?

During such times of quiet, Throttle would pace back and forth in front of Valkyrie's pen. His mind warring with his heart over Anya's fate—his mind decreeing that no human could endure such torture for so long, while his heart declared that Anya would not give up.

Sometimes the moments of quiet lasted a few minutes. Sometimes they lasted for hours. Either way, they were absolute torture for Throttle. The fact that he had no idea of what had happened to his beloved caused him to become more and more unglued with each period of quiet. The minutes _felt_ like hours, and the hours felt like _years_. The moment Valkyrie's volatile behavior resumed, Throttle was instantly flooded with both relief as well as intense guilt for feeling that emotion.

Simply put, Throttle was mentally _not_ in a good place. Each day, he teetered dangerously close to the edge of insanity, and the only thing that kept him from falling was the knowledge that Anya would need him to be focused once the shuttle was ready for flight.

Anya _needed_ him to be strong.

Throttle had no idea what physical condition or state of mind Anya would be in when he got her back. But the one thing that he _did_ know was that his beloved would be traumatized in one way or another, and that she would _need_ him to be her rock. Throttle was more than prepared to be that and more. When he got Anya back, he would be and do _anything_ that she needed.

And that meant that he had to remain in control.

Even now…

"Easy boy…easy…" Throttle repeated—his voice catching in his throat just a little. Valkyrie was racing madly around the inside of the enclosure with his engine revving and his lights flashing uncontrollably. "I know your mama's hurting…and I know that you want to go to her so you can help her…but you _can't._ Believe me, I know how you feel…and believe me when I say that it hurts me more than it's hurting you. Every instinct inside of me is screaming for me to protect her…to keep her safe, and here I am just as helpless as you are until Charley gets that shuttle flight-worthy. I can't tell you how much I wish that it was _me_ in her place right now…that _I_ was the one up there being poked, prodded and gods know what else."

His grip tightened around the edge of the corral, and while his body trembled with barely contained rage, he did not bother to stop the tears that streamed down his face and formed dark trails down his cheeks. "Believe me, boy…if I could trade places with her, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

* * *

_…Karbunkle's lab…_

Though Anya's throat was cracked and raw from all the screams that were ripped from her throat over the course of the past four days, she still managed to make her voice reverberate throughout the cold walls of the sadistic Karbunkle's lab as well as through the corridors that led from it as her body jolted uncontrollably as another surge of electrical currents coursed through her body from the electrodes that were attached to her as she herself hung from the ceiling by a pair of metal manacles—the tattered remains of her clothing hanging from her body by mere threads. This particular burst of electricity was stronger than those she had previously endured, and it lasted for much longer. Despite the sharp, numbing pain in her throat from her screams, Anya knew that if she did _not_ scream she would bite through her tongue and that her death would be certain. She could not allow Throttle to rescue a corpse. So she screamed even though her vocal chords felt as though they were bleeding.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the current stopped and Anya's screams finally died as her head dropped—her chin touching her chest as she drew in shaky breaths. "Alright…" she murmured hoarsely once she was able. "Alright…that's it…I've had enough." She slowly raised her head and fixed her gaze upon Karbunkle as he stood behind the control panel—strands of scarlet hair sticking to her sweat covered face. "Your treatment of me is rather…shocking." Despite the fact that her body still screamed in agony, she could not stop the small, cheeky grin from tugging at the edges of her mouth anymore than she could stop the hoarse, strangled sounding cackle from escaping her lips. "Get it? _Shocking_?"

"Fascinating…" Karbunkle mused as he stepped out from behind the control panel. "Even with death staring you right in the face, you're _still_ not begging for your life."

"You're not man enough…to kill me," Anya replied—her voice a little stronger now though it still took an effort to get her words out. "If you were…you'd have done it by now…instead of…instead of pickin' me apart piece by piece like some kinda insect, you sick bastard."

"On the contrary, my dear," Limburger purred as he slowly strode into the room with his hands behind his back. "You have held up well beyond what even I thought you would," he said with a pleased smile. "The fact that you have still retained your mind in spite of all that you have endured at hands of my diabolical associate speaks volumes of your inner reserves of strength. It is remarkable how a waif of a girl like you has proven herself when all your predecessors became mindless, drooling lunatics within a day of all you have endured." Limburger's smile grew as he came to a halt a foot away from Anya. "Oh, no, my dear…killing _you_ would be a great crime indeed. I have something _else_ in mind for you."

Anya stared at Limburger for a moment before closing her eyes with a groan. "Is _this_ some kinda Plutarkian pickup line?" She opened her eyes and locked her gaze on Limburger's. "Because I'm tellin' you right now…I'll bite off my own tongue before you can unzip," she added with a snarl.

Limburger chuckled and slowly traced a finger along the line of Anya's jaw—his smile growing when Anya's lip curled up in revulsion despite her best efforts. "As lovely a trophy as you would make, and as much as it would tickle me to be able to flaunt you in front of your beloved rodent, I'm afraid that you would be wasted in such a capacity." He pulled away and turned on his heel so he was facing Karbunkle. "Commence with Phase Two."

"Phase Two of what?" Anya asked.

Karbunkle cackled and grinned while rubbing his bony hands together in excitement and moving back behind the control panel. "Asss you wish, your cheesienesss," he replied—completely ignoring Anya. Pressing a button, he caused a panel in the floor to slide open to allow a hermetic capsule to rise up into the room. As this happened, he spoke into an intercom. "Security report to the laboratory."

"Phase Two of what?" Anya demanded as two guards entered the room and hurried towards her—reaching her just as the shackles released her wrists and allowed her to drop to the floor in an ungraceful heap.

"Guardssss, put the candidate into the chamber," Karbunkle instructed as the coffin-like object opened with a hiss.

Though she was too weak to put up an actual fight, Anya nevertheless struggled against the iron grips of her captors as she was lifted physically off the ground and carried to the capsule. Her eyes widened as she saw that the entire inside of the chamber's front and sides was completely lined with needles. "No...! No!" Her struggles began anew even as she was placed into the coffin and firmly held down as her body was fastened in.

"Good," Karbunkle all but squealed. "Now step away so I can close the capsule."

Even as the doors of the capsule began to close in on her, Anya continued to try and break free of her bonds. She did not even stop when the first series of needles began piercing her skin and sinking into her body. "Phase Two of _WHAT_?" she shrieked desperately—her eyes wild.

Now in the doorway of the lab, Limburger stopped slowly turned around—a cold, knowing grin spread widely over his large face. "Now then…_why_ should I spoil the surprise?"

Even once the capsule had closed completely, Anya's screams could still be heard—every single cell in her body burning like acid as the needles sank into her flesh and began injecting her with Karbunkle's special cocktail.


	18. Chapter 18

Thank you everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Your reviews keep me going! I think I've managed to wrangle my muse so she doesn't keep changing key things in the plot…but we'll see how long that lasts, lol.

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters that you will find in this story, nor do I own anything else pertaining to Biker Mice from Mars (unfortunately -,-). I also don't own the character of Duncan who belongs to fellow FF/net member, and my friend, MorbidCrow. However, all other OCs belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter 18**

* * *

_"Running for her life…  
the dark rain from her eyes still falls.  
Breathtaking butterfly…  
chose a dark day to live."_

_'Cadence of Her Last Breath' by Nightwish_

_…Anya's cell; the next day…_

Curled up in the fetal position on the floor, and dressed in something that was little more than a hospital gown because the ragged remnants of her clothing could no longer qualify as clothing, Anya slept dreamlessly. There was not an inch of her body that did not scream in a pain that radiated from the inside. Her every muscle as well as certain bones felt as though they were on fire, but at least in her slumbering state, she was able to be in a state in which she did not have to focus on the pain.

It allowed her to not remember what had happened that afternoon.

Phase Three.

Because she had lived through the night after she had been put through Phase Two, Anya had been deemed worthy to proceed into Phase Three.

Phase Three…

Anya had been strapped into a chair, and a large needle had been jammed into the base of her skull while others were jammed into the top of her spinal cord, the top as well as the back of her skull. Though she had screamed in pain once the needle had entered her, her body was still weak and recovering from what it had endured the previous day. She had been unable to put up any kind of a fight even as she had been dragged from her cell.

How could she when every movement that she made created a blinding-hot pain that caused her to nearly fall unconscious?

And she _had_ fallen unconscious.

The shock from this new pain had been too much for her already suffering body to endure, and so Anya had done the only thing she could think of for self-preservation—blacking out.

She had been unconscious all the while she had been dragged back to her cell, but she had awakened briefly with a pained yelp as her body made contact with the cold, hard floor when she had been thrown inside. Her moment of wakefulness did not last long. Once she had curled her body as tightly as she was physically able, her eyes closed once more and everything went black once more.

While she had no idea how long she was out, in reality it had been almost five hours.

And that was just fine with Anya.

So tired…

For all the fight that she had within her, Anya was so very tired. All of her strength and energy had left her as her body had been pushed beyond its breaking point. She simply had nothing left to give.

And she was all alone.

There were no strong arms to gather her up and hold her close. There was no warm, sculpted body for her to nestle into and draw strength from. Throttle was not there with her, and while Anya still clung to the small sliver of hope that her beloved would find a way to get to her, she could not help but wonder if she would still be alive when he did so.

* * *

_…L.A. Resistance, garage; three hours later…_

Throttle paced restlessly back and forth in front of Valkyrie's corral. He alternated between wringing his hands, running them through his hair and putting them in his pockets.

Eight hours…

It had been _eight_ hours since Valkyrie had last been linked into Anya's pain, and Throttle was beside himself with worry. He had _never_ gone this long without the bittersweet relief of knowing Anya was still alive. The fact that so much time had passed now…

No!

Throttle gave a violent shake of his head in order to silence the voice of logic in his head—the voice that told him that no human could withstand torture for as long as Anya had. That same voice told Throttle that the only logical explanation for the long period of quiet was to accept that Anya was dead.

But Throttle _refused_ to believe that Anya was dead.

He had already lost one love, and he was not about to lose another.

He _could_ not lose another.

At length, he stopped his pacing and simply sank to the floor. On his knees, he gazed through the bars of the corral. "C'mon, Valkyrie ol' boy…give me a sign," he begged softly as a lone tear rolled down his cheek. "Tell me she's okay…"

"Throttle?"

Throttle closed his eyes at the sound of Charley's voice behind him. "Charley-girl…unless you're next words are 'the shuttle's ready to fly', I'd keep them to yourself."

Charley smiled softly and leaned down so she could rest her hands upon Throttle's shoulders. "Then you're in luck, because she's ready to fly."

Throttle spun around on his knees so he was facing his friend. "Is it really?" he asked hopefully.

Charley nodded and her smile grew. "Would I lie to you?" removing her hands from Throttle's shoulders, she took several steps back in anticipation for the sudden burst of movement she knew was coming. "I've already sent word to Stoker and the others. They're on their way. Now go. Go get your girl back."

* * *

_…Karbunkle's lab…_

"She's still sleeping, I see," Limburger mused while watching Anya's prone form through the monitor.

Karbunkle nodded. "Her body hasss entered a hibernation state so it can finish undergoing all the changesss that have been initiated. You can see that some have already begun taking hold. Once she awakensss at the end of the processss, then we can move onto Phase Four."

"And how much longer until she wakes up?" Limburger asked.

"It should not be more than two days," Karbunkle answered after a moment of thought. "If after two daysss of undisturbed rest she hasn't awakened on her own, then I'll give her a shot of adrenaline to wake her up. There'sss no need to put off the projects progress any longer than necessary."

"Excellent," Limburger replied with a smile. "I will inform Lord Camembert at once. He will be no doubt be pleased with how the project is progressing." He turned on his heel and started for the door. "Inform me of any changes."

"Asss you wish, your supreme cheesinesss." Karbunkle turned back to the monitor once Limburger had left the room, and he smiled while rubbing his hands in anticipation for what was to come further along in the project. His mind filled with nothing but excitement for the coming days, he turned and made his way to his main lab table in order to begin preparations.

* * *

_…Anya's cell…_

The guard stationed outside the containment cell leaned against the glass and leered in at the deeply slumbering female. He slowly licked his wide fish lips as his gaze traveled up her toned, creamy legs and to the glimpse of her bare backside that peeked out just under the hem of her hospital gown that had risen up after he had tossed her earlier into the cell.

According to Karbunkle, the female would not be waking up any time soon…

And it _had_ been a while since he had known the touch of a woman.

He had often heard his fellow guards talk about what it had been like to mount a human female whenever they took any as prisoners—how soft their skin was and how so very easy their smaller bodies were to pin down. _This_ female would be all that much easier to take advantage of in her unconscious state, and that made the guard grin in a wide, toothy manner as he pressed the button in the wall to make the glass door slide aside before stepping inside.

Even in her slumbering state, Anya tensed—knowing even without seeing that something was wrong. She did not _need_ to see anything. She could feel it. She could _smell_ it…there was a new scent in her cell, and it awoke every instinct within her before setting them on full alert. But Anya wanted nothing to do with it. She was far too tired to do anything. She was far too tired to even care. All she wanted to do was sleep.

Sleep meant that she could not feel anything.

But her instincts—even ones that were so deep-seeded that she never before paid them any mind—would not be silenced.

Wake up, they said.

Wake up…

WAKE UP!

Anya's eyes snapped open just as she was being rolled onto her back with her legs being spread open by her Plutarkian guard. Her green eyes narrowed and an animalistic snarl escaped her lips as she bore her teeth. Less than a heartbeat later, she drove her foot hard into the fish man's stomach and sent him flying across the cell. Before her would-be rapist could even sit up, Anya was upon him—her pupils dilated to the point that her irises appeared entirely black as she ripped and tore into the guard with her bare hands.

No words escaped her, only feral growls and snarls.

Finally, when the smell of blood became too potent for her to ignore, Anya stopped and slowly raised her hands before simply gazing at her blood-soaked fingers that were still curved like talons.

* * *

_…Karbunkle's lab…_

Karbunkle had just been walking by the monitor that broadcasted Anya's cell with a tray of vials to be placed in the cooling unit when he saw the Plutarkian guard slip into the cell. While he never cared when the Plutarkians raped the other female prisoners before killing them, he _did_ care when his pet project was the one being meddled with. After all, without the proper amount of rest that her body needed, how _else_ would she recover enough to be of any use?

He had just been about to get onto the loudspeaker and order the guard to vacate the cell when suddenly the unexpected happened.

Anya woke up.

However, before Karbunkle could ponder the implications of the girl's early awakening, Anya had attacked her guard and savagely killed him with her bare hands. He could not find it in him to do anything else but watch as the woman who had seemed so weak and helpless only moments before suddenly overtake the much larger, hulking guard. He could not help the swell of pride that filled him at the success of his project, but it was short-lived when he watched Anya stare at her blood-caked hand before slowly licking her fingers clean. Behind his goggles, Karbunkle's eyes widened, and for a brief moment he felt nothing but the primal, deep-seeded fear of a smaller, weaker animal suddenly faced with a stronger, more powerful predator.

It was at that moment that Karbunkle realized that the door to Anya's cell was still open and that there was nothing to keep her from escaping and wreaking havoc on the rest of the ship. The sudden desire to survive—not to mention to preserve his project—caused him to slam his hand down upon the red button that launched the ship's emergency lockdown.

"Alert! Alert!" Karbunkle hissed into the intercom—somehow knowing that the lockdown would not be enough. "We have an escaped prisoner! Capture and detain her at once! I want her _alive_!"

* * *

_…Anya's cell…_

The flashing red lights, the blaring alarms and the unmistakable sound of Karbunkle's voice ripped Anya's mind from its sated, red-tinged haze, and upon seeing her cell door beginning to slide shut once more, she grabbed the blaster from the Plutarkian corpse before leaping out into the corridor.

Escape!

This was her chance to escape.

All the previous exhaustion and weariness that she had felt only minutes before was gone and replaced with a surge of adrenaline the likes of which Anya had never experienced before. Her mind was clear of any and all thoughts and she was instead controlled completely by instinct alone. She took off at a dead sprint down the corridor, and upon turning the corner she saw the blaster doors quickly sliding shut. Not once stopping, she narrowed her eyes and kept running until she took a flying leap and dove through the ever-shrinking opening— just moments before it slammed shut.

Performing a handspring as she approached the hard floor, she flipped herself up onto her feet and continued sprinting in one smooth motion. Not once did she stop to think about the ease with which she performed the actions she had never done before. At that moment, there was no room in her mind for any type of thought—not when raw instinct and adrenaline were the only things driving her forward.

"Look, the prisoner!"

"She's escaping!"

"Stop her!"

"Remember, Karbunkle wants her _alive_!"

Anya's head snapped smoothly in each direction as she fired the stolen blaster and took out the four Plutarkians who had spied her, but not once did she stop running. Her eyes quickly scanned the signs as she ran down the corridor—turning down the appropriate ones that would lead her to the main hanger.

* * *

_…Resistance shuttle…_

"We're approaching Plutarkian airspace," Stoker said from the pilot seat. "Going into stealth mode…_now_." He flipped a switch. "Throttle, it's over to _you_ now. Activate the tracking signal on Valkyrie so we know just _which_ ship we're going to."

"I'm on it," Throttle replied as he knelt in front beside Valkyrie and fiddled with a few buttons and controls. "Got it, and I'm sending the feed to the shuttle's navigation computer."

"Got it," Stoker replied. "Looks like she's in the flagship," he added while directing the shuttle towards the larger ship in the fleet.

"Coach…you sure we're invisible?" Vinnie asked while fiddling with his helmet. Never one to run away from a fight, even _he_ was smart enough to know when the odds were stacked against him.

"Do you see those fish heads attacking us?" Stoker asked matter-of-factly. "We're close enough that we would've popped up on their radar by now if we weren't in stealth mode.

"Okay, good point," Vinnie conceded.

"Still though…Rimfire, be ready to fire should anything go wrong," Stoker ordered. "We don't have nearly strong enough firepower for a full attack, so you need to make sure to hit them where it hurts should it come down to it."

"Got, it Coach," Rimfire said with a nod from his seat just off of the helm as he began scanning the ships for their vulnerable areas.

"Throttle? Are you _here_?" Stoker asked pointedly with a quick glance over his shoulder at the tan-furred Martian.

"I'm here and ready for action," Throttle replied simply.

"No thoughts of revenge, do you understand me? We haven't the man _or_ the firepower to launch a full campaign. This is strictly a rescue mission. Get in, grab Anya and get out _fast_. Have I made myself perfectly clear?" Stoker asked.

"My head's in the game, Stoker…don't worry," Throttle answered.

After a few moments, Stoker nodded. "Okay, so is everyone clear on the plan?"

Modo nodded. "Rimfire's gonna fire a hole into the hull of the ship so the three of us can board. Then, I'm gonna watch Throttle's back while he looks for Anya, amd Vinnie's gonna keep the way to the ship cleared for when we _do_ fine her. You an' Rimfire are gonna stay here on the shuttle and keep it fired up and ready for when we get back. That about it?"

"That about covers it," Stoker replied with a nod. "We're just about in range, so everyone get their helmets on. Once the shuttle's doors open, there's going to be a vacuum that'll suck all the air out of the shuttle and the area of the hull just immediate to the hole. Throttle, be sure you've got the extra helmet for Anya."

"Already loaded on Valkyrie," Throttle answered once he had placed his helmet over his head.

"You sure Lady's not too mad about you not bringing her along?" Vinnie asked as he mounted Sweetheart.

"Yeah, bro…hell hath no fury like a bike scorned," Modo said with a wry chuckle as he put on his helmet.

"She was mad at first," Throttle replied. "After all we've been through together, I couldn't really blame her. But when I explained to her that Valkyrie was the one who could find Anya because of the corresponding chips, she understood…albeit begrudgingly."

"Just be sure to make it up to her when we get back," Vinnie said with a grin as he made sure his helmet was securely in place.

"Once I make sure Anya is okay and taken care of, I'll give Lady a good wipe down and an oil change," Throttle replied. "But _not_ until my woman is taken care of."

"Fair enough," Modo said with a nod while mounting Li'l Hoss.

"Um…Coach?" Rimfire asked while pressing a finger to the earpiece in his ear.

"Yeah, Rookie?"

"I'm picking up all kinds of chaos on the flagship," Rimfire answered before putting on his helmet.

"What do you mean by chaos?" Stoker asked with a raised eyebrow as he got his own helmet into place.

"Blaster fire, shouting, screaming…you know…_chaos_," Rimfire replied. "I don't know how _else_ to put it, Coach."

Throttle tensed and hurriedly mounted Valkyrie. "Come on, let's go!" he growled while revving the bike to life.

"Keep your head in the game, Throttle," Stoker said firmly as he brought the shuttle closer to the flagship. "Rimfire…fire the blasters."

"On it!"

No sooner had Rimfire blasted a hole into the hull of the flagship's cargo hold did Stoker turn the shuttle and open the doors while getting as close as he possibly could to the hole. "GO!"

Throttle all but flew Valkyrie through the two holes at a breakneck speed. "Come on boy, let's find your mama," he growled.

"I'm on yer six, bro," Modo called in a booming voice so Throttle could hear him above the chaos. "Just lead the way!"

"Awooohoohoo!" Vinnie cackled as he followed behind Throttle and Modo—immediately taking out four Plutarkians who had raised their blasters to fire at Throttle and Modo. "I got your backs, bro! Go rescue the girl!"

Throttle allowed Valkyrie to take control of the driving while he himself focused on firing the weapons at any Plutarkians that came his way. "ANYA!" he bellowed when Valkyrie took a turn down a corridor as though hoping his beloved would miraculously hear him and answer him back. "ANYA!"

Modo for his part blasted any Plutarkian that Throttle missed and followed closely behind his comrade.

Valkyrie took another turn down another corridor.

"ANYA!" Throttle bellowed before firing Valkyrie's rocket launchers at the closed blaster doors and blowing a large hole clear through it. "ANYA!" Both Martians barreled through the doors, and the unmistakable sounds of a fight reached their ears.

"Remember what Stoker said!" Modo shouted as they raced down the corridor. "No heroics. Let's steer clear of the fight an' just find Anya!"

"Not gonna happen, bro!" Throttle yelled in reply. "The fight is where Valkyrie's taking us!" No sooner had the words left Throttle's mouth did both he and Modo find themselves in the ship's main hanger where they saw blood-soaked Anya cornered by a large group of Plutarkians. Before Throttle could say anything, one of the Plutarkians hit the back of Anya's head with the butt of his blaster rifle, and the sight of his beloved slamming hard into the wall before crumpling to the floor threw rational thought from his head. With a wordless roar or rage that reverberated through the hanger as he gunned Valkyrie's engine and drove like a madman towards the group while firing the bike's blasters in rapid succession.

Between him and Modo, they took out all but one Plutarkian—the one who had attacked Anya with the blaster rifle. Once he was close enough, Throttle leapt from Valkyrie and tackled the Plutarkian to the ground before snarling and proceeding to beat his face with his fists while Valkyrie moved into a protective position beside Anya's crumpled form.

"Throttle!" Modo shouted as he pulled Li'l Hoss to a halt and hurriedly climbed off. "Throttle, STOP!" He roughly grabbed his friend's shoulder and pulled him off. "Stop it, he's dead! Remember the plan!"

Modo's words had the desired effect, and Throttle snapped out of the red haze of his rage before crawling over to Anya and cradling her to him—not caring about the blood that now coated his fur. "Anya? Anya, can you hear me?" He felt his lover's pulse when she did not awaken and breathed a sigh of relief. "She's alive," he said before swiftly grabbing the extra helmet from Valkyrie and affixing it to Anya's head. That done, he gathered his beloved into his arms and stood before mounting the rumbling bike before glancing to the left and catching sight of both Karbunkle and Limburger as they screeched to a halt upon rounding a corner. Throttle snarled, and his eyes narrowed into slits behind his shades. "_YOU!"_

"THROTTLE!" Modo bellowed—knowing full well what his friend intended to do. "Throttle, let them go!" he growled while tightly gripping Throttle's shoulder—clearly not happy at the sight of both of their sworn enemies turning on their heels and beating a hasty retreat. "Remember the plan!"

"Fuck the plan!" Throttle snarled. "This is our chance! We can take them out!"

"THROTTLE! We'll get them _later_!Think of Anya!" Modo bellowed. "Anya needs you _now_!She needs medical attention!"

Throttle growled before nodding. "You're right, let's get out of here!" He clutched Anya to him tightly while situating the both of them on Valkyrie's seat. "Okay, boy…it's over to you now for the driving and the shooting. I need to keep a firm hold on your mama."

Valkyrie revved in agreement.

"Just stay behind me, bro," Modo said once he had mounted Li'l Hoss. "I'll clear the way."

And with that, they raced back off in the direction from which they came.

True to his word, Modo cleared a path through the Plutrakians who were either racing to make it to escape pods or trying to stop the Martians' escape. All the while he rode behind Modo, Throttle kept his gazed fixed upon Anya, and while the slight and slow rising and falling of her chest as she breathed was comforting, he could not help but worry that she remained limp and unconscious in his arms even with all the chaos that was ensuing around them. But Throttle did not have time to dwell on it for too long as he and Modo raced into the cargo hold. They were in the home stretch now, and all he could think about was getting Anya on board the shuttle and far away from the horror she had endured.

"Awooohoohoo!" Vinnie cheered when he caught sight of his returning friends. "Hey, Coach! Get ready to put the pedal to the metal! They're coming!" He fired his blasters at two Plutarkians who charged the shuttle. "Not today, you overgrown sardines! Today's the day we get one of our own back!" He made sure to stay clear of the door so Throttle and Modo could get into the shuttle with their precious cargo. "SUCK IT!" he bellowed before racing Sweetheart into the shuttle and hitting the button to close the doors with his tail. "All aboard, Coach!" he cried. "Go, go, go, go, go!"

"Hang on, everyone!" Stoker called. "Once I pull away from the hull, there's gonna be one hell of a strong vacuum pull, and I'm going to have to really burn stardust to pull against it. So strap in! This part might get a bit bumpy!"

Having dismounted from their bikes, Throttle, Vinnie and Modo hurried to their seats and strapped themselves in. Throttle held Anya in his lap—both his arms and tail wrapped tightly around her as he braced the both of them against the turbulence. For several moments, no one spoke a word—not wanting to distract Stoker and Rimfire as they worked to get them away from the flagship as it began to spin out of control as the vacuum began taking effect. Only when the shuttle had gotten clear of the fleet did the 'crew' remove their helmets and relax just a little.

"How is she, Throttle?" Stoker asked over his shoulder.

"Alive…but she's not waking up," Throttle answered with growing worry. "Whatever happened to her, Karbunkle was _definitely_ involved," he added with an angry growl.

"No doubt she's been through a lot then," Stoker replied. "Her body needs time to recover."

"Yeah, bro," Vinnie replied with a nod. "Rimfire's the only one who hasn't been under Karbunkle's knife, but the _rest_ of us know how it can fuck with you."

"Don't worry, bro. Once Emily and the doctors get to her, she'll be as good as new," Modo said in his best, comforting voice. "But she's gonna need _you_ too."

"She'll have me," Throttle affirmed while tenderly tracing his fingertips over Anya's cheek. "I'll be with her every step of the way during her recovery. "Now that I've got her back, I'm not about to let her out of my sight."

* * *

_…Resistance medical bay; later…_

"DOCTOR! I need a doctor here!" Throttle bellowed as he ran into the medical bay with Vinnie, Charley, Modo, Stoker and Sydney not far behind him.

Emily looked up from her clipboard and balked when she saw Throttle. "What is it?" she asked as she hurried over to her friend. "Did you find her?" Upon reaching the Martian, she looked down and saw Anya's limp body. "This way! Come with me," she ordered as she led the way to the far end of the room to where the intensive care beds were kept. "Lay her down on the bed so I can get her hooked up to an I.V and a heart monitor. We'll worry about getting her into a new hospital gown once I've got an idea on the status of her vitals."

Throttle nodded and carefully placed his lover down on the bed before reluctantly stepping aside so Emily could work.

"Is she going to be okay?" Sydney asked worriedly as she clung to Stoker's arm.

"Well, she's alive so _that's_ a good start," Emily replied. Having put in the I.V, she then hooked Anya up to the heart monitor before affixing her gaze to the screen. After a few minutes of watching her heart rate, Emily slowly let out a small sigh of relief. "Her heartbeat is strong, so if she makes it through the night then I'd say we're in the clear." Drawing closer to the unconscious red head, she slowly traced her fingers along her limbs. "There's no discoloration or bumps that would indicate any broken bones…" She carefully felt along Anya's ribcage. Out of respect for Anya, she would not expose the woman's body with such a large crowd on onlookers. "Ribs feel intact…but we'll run a full array of X-Rays just to be sure there aren't any hairline fractures."

"One of the Plutarkians nailed her on the back of the head with a rifle butt," Throttle said with a growl. "Dunno how bad it is…"

Emily moved further up the bed and slipped an arm under Anya's shoulders in order to raise her just enough so she could feel the back of her head. "Well, there's a definite bump, but no sticky residue that would indicate blood," she said after a few moments before drawing her hand away. "And there's no dried blood on my fingers, so there's no open wounds to worry about but we'll do a scan right away to make sure there's no hemorrhaging."

"You'll keep us posted as to her status and recovery?" Stoker asked.

"Of course," Emily answered emphatically with a nod before looking to Throttle. "And I will _personally_ see that she gets the best care that we can manage."

"Thank you," Throttle said while his hand automatically found its way to Anya's and gently gripped it as his gaze moved down to his lover's face.

"Well, we'll leave you to your work," Stoker said pointedly so the others would follow him out.

Even as the others turned and started for the door, Throttle remained. "What can _I_ do?" he asked of Emily.

"You can go home and get some sleep," Emily answered.

"No fucking way," Throttle answered immediately.

"Throttle, for the next couple hours, things are going to get pretty crowded around here. We're going to be coming back and forth to do several tests, and you'll get underfoot if you stay and hover."

"Then I'll stay out of the way when you need to do tests, but I'm _not_ leaving Anya's side," Throttle said firmly.

Emily sighed heavily. "Throttle, I happen to know that you've slept maybe a total of eight hours since Anya was taken. Now, when she wakes up, she's going to need you to be her rock…her support. I can't even begin to imagine what she's been through, but chances are there's going to be some psychological damage, and you're not going to be able to handle it if you're dead on your feet. Now, are you going to go rest on your own accord, or am I going to have to call Modo back here and have him physically take you to your quarters?"

"Emily…I am _not_ leaving Anya," Throttle said firmly. "It just about killed me when she was taken, and now that I have her back, I'm not leaving her. She's going to be shaken and afraid when she wakes up, and I'll never forgive myself if she wakes up without my being by her side."

Emily was silent for a few moments as she and Throttle remained at their stalemate. "Fine," she said with a heavy sigh after some thought. "If I set up a cot by Anya's bed, will that be enough of a compromise?"

"Yes," Throttle answered with a nod.

"Alright, then I'll get it set up," Emily said. "But _only_ if you promise to sleep. If I find out that you _haven't_ been resting, then I _will_ have Modo drag you to your room, and I'll make sure he locks you in, is that clear?"

Throttle blinked. "Already got the 'mom' voice down, I see," he said with a wry chuckle. "Your kid doesn't stand a chance."

Emily grinned. "Yeah, well…I've had plenty of practice in dealing with you guys. Now, do we understand each other?"

"Yeah," Throttle said with a nod—suddenly feeling very tired. "We understand each other."

"Good. Now…first thing's first, we're going to run the scans I mentioned so while that's going on you _need_ to keep out of the way. However, once we're finished, I'll get a cot set up by the bed. Until then, you can sit there," she said while pointing to a chair in a corner. "Feel free to take a nap and I'll wake you when the scans are done."

Throttle gave a small nod while gently squeezing Anya's hand. "Okay." He leaned down and brushed tender kiss to Anya's lips—not caring that her face was spattered with blood. "Emily?" he asked while slowly straightening.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

Emily smiled softly. "You're welcome. Now go take a nap."


	19. Chapter 19

Thank you everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Your reviews keep me going! I think I've managed to wrangle my muse so she doesn't keep changing key things in the plot…but we'll see how long that lasts, lol. As usual, unpacking, blogging and prepping for the baby has kept me pretty busy.

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters that you will find in this story, nor do I own anything else pertaining to Biker Mice from Mars (unfortunately -,-).

* * *

**Chapter 19**

* * *

"_Let me riddle you a ditty, it's just an itty bitty, little thing on my mind…  
about a boy and a girl, trying to take on the world one kiss at a time.  
Now the funny thing about, ain't a story without it, but the story is mine.  
And I wish you could say, that it ended just fine."_

'_Happily Ever After' by He is We_

…_Plutarkian fleet ship; the next day…_

Lord Camembert's face glowered down upon Limburger from the large screen. "Of _all_ the things that you could say to me right now at this present moment, 'Our pet project went rogue and was rescued in an event that cost the fleet one of its more powerful flagships' will most certainly ensure that your death is long and drawn out."

Limburger hung his head in submission. "Please, my lord…I do not know _where_ things went wrong. According to Karbunkle, the girl should not have awakened for at least two days. Obviously, the fault lies with him _not_ me."

"_Always_ directing the blame elsewhere…such is your pattern that _never_ wavers," Camembert snarled with narrowed eyes. "Doctor Karbunkle is under _your_ direct command, and any failure of _his_ reflects directly onto _you_."

"But, my lord—"

"_ENOUGH_!" Camembert roared. "I have had _enough_ of your excuses, Limburger. Now, fix the problem before I dispose of you and find someone else who _can_ succeed where you have failed so miserably!"

And with those words, Lord Camembert was gone.

Now alone, Limburger clenched his large hands into fists and the entirety of his bulk trembled with rage and humiliation. How had so many things gone so wrong _so_ quickly? One moment, everything was going according to plan, and then within the next moment all chaos had ensued.

Turning on his heel, Limburger stormed from the room and did not once stop in his pace until he reached the room that was now serving as Karbunkle's lab. "Two days, doctor," he growled. "You informed me that we had _two_ days until that girl awoke. Would you then mind telling me _why_ we have now _lost_ the bloodthirsty, little guinea pig? _How_ did she manage to awaken so soon and cause so much havoc?"

"The occurrence was _most_ irregular, your cheesinesss," Karbunkle answered after gulping softly. "But given the complexity of the changes taking place within the female, I can hardly be expected to anticipate every single—"

"I want explanations, doctor," Limburger snarled. "_Not_ excuses!"

Karbunkle jumped a little. "Well…perhaps…" he stammered as his mind raced to find an explanation. "Perhaps I might have made a miscalculation in how soon certain of the upgrades would take effect, but even if I _had_ made an error in my calculations, it would _not_ have led to the events that followed if it had not been for the guard assigned to her."

This caused Limburger to blink. "How do you mean?"

Seeing that his employer was in a more calm state of mind, Karbunkle breathed a small sigh of relief. "All of the injectionsss that she wasss given…some of them would have taken effect sooner than the othersss."

"Which changes would those be?" Limburger asked.

"Her sensesss for the most part," Karbunkle answered. "Smell, hearing, sight…not to mention the more primal of instinctsss that most humans have long since evolved out of, they would be the first to take effect. The changes of a more physical nature would follow next. Now, if she had been left alone for two daysss asss wasss the original plan, then she would have slumbered on without any issue. But, because her guard decided it would be fun to attempt and rape her while she wasss in her nearly comatose state, the changes that _had_ already begun taking affect forced her to awaken early…"

"And kill her would-be attacker," Limburger finished. "With her bare hands, no less," he added while scowling—clearly unhappy.

"Had the Martians not come to her rescue, we would have been able to subdue and contain her and thereby resume the project," Karbunkle added with a soft growl of displeasure. As a scientist, he was incensed that his pet project had been taken from him before completion.

"Such a fine specimen she was…" Limburger mused. "So much promise…she would have been an invaluable asset should you have completed the entire process, but I am not willing to launch a campaign to get her back. Or more to the point… Lord Camembert won't be willing to do so."

Karbunkle was silent for a few moments before smiling in a sinister way. "She may still be of use to usss, your cheesinesss."

"Expound upon your point," Limburger said. "And be quick about it."

"Incomplete though the processss might be, it might only serve to make the test subject all the more dangerous to those who risked so much to rescue her," Karbunkle said. "You see…the final step in the processss wasss to implant her with a command that would turn her into a living weapon. Naturally, I would have also implanted her with a safe word that would 'disarm' her and return her to her normal state."

"Get to the point, doctor," Limburger prompted irritably. "I grow weary of your prattling."

"The point isss that were I able to complete the entire project, she would have become a Sleeper capable of enacting great violence and mayhem upon hearing a simple command and doing so without question and in perfect obedience. Upon returning her back to Earth, she would have been a perfectly placed weapon." Karbunkle's grin returned. "But without her having gone through the remaining phases of the project, she'sss a ticking time-bomb. There'sss no knowing _what_ will set her off or _when_, but we can be assured that when she _isss_ set off that she will wreak a great deal of havoc before those in the Resistance are forced to kill her."

A slow, cruel smile spread over Limburger's face. "Ah, I see where your mind is going, my diabolical friend." He chuckled darkly. "Imagine, what it will be like for Throttle to watch his new love turn against him and their cause…and all before he's forced to put a bullet between her eyes. How long do you suppose he would last before he put a bullet through his own head?" He rubbed is hands together with glee. "Oh, to be a fly on the wall…"

* * *

…_Resistance hospital hangar…_

Sitting on his cot beside Anya's bed, Throttle lightly rested a hand over the one of Anya's that was closest to him while his other hand tenderly stroked his lover's crimson hair. He had done as Emily had ordered and had slept the entire night, but now that he was awake, all he could do was sit by his beloved's side. Because all the necessary scans and x-rays had been conducted the day before, he did not have to worry about being in anyone's way.

According to Emily, there were no broken bones and no hemorrhaging from her head injury, so all Anya needed was rest so her body could recover from whatever trauma it had been subjected to while under Karbunkle's 'care'.

And that suited Throttle just fine.

Content and determined to wait however long it took for Anya to awaken from her comatose state, Throttle had passed his military duties over to Modo so he could do just that.

"Hey there, beautiful," he murmured softly. "Can you hear me?" he asked gently. "I like to think that you can…I like to think that wherever you are inside of your head that you can hear my voice, and that you know just how much I love you." His thumb lovingly caressed Anya's forehead as he cast his gaze up to the monitor that displayed his lover's heart rate—finding comfort in the fact that it was strong and steady. After a few moments, he allowed his head to rest beside Anya's on her pillow. "I'm not going anywhere until you wake up," he murmured softly into the red head's ear. "You hear me, Annie-girl? You might've been alone on that Plutarkian ship…and you have no idea how much it killed me to not be able to save you right away, but that's not the case anymore. I'm right here with you, and that's how it's going to stay. However long it takes, I'm going to stay right here with you."

"Please tell me you'll leave to go to the bathroom," Emily said as she came up on the other side of the bed—clipboard in hand.

"Only because I don't think it'll be good for the other patients if I answer Nature's call here," Throttle replied with a soft chuckle without missing a beat. "Besides…I don't want to be all kinds of stinky and gross when Anya wakes up."

"I know that she'd still be happy to see you," Emily said while cracking a small smile before sobering. "Have you eaten anything?"

"No," Throttle answered without removing his gaze from Anya.

Emily sighed. "And I'm guessing there's nothing I can do to make you go get some food in your belly?"

"I'm already sleeping like you told me to, but nothing other than a much needed bathroom break is going to make me leave Anya's side," Throttle replied.

Emily sighed again and gingerly rubbed her forehead. "Alright, well when I go on break in about an hour I'll bring something back for you. Can you hold out that long?"

"I've gone a lot longer than that before," Throttle answered simply.

Before Emily could say anything, Anya's body gave a sudden jerk before thrashing madly as the red head began screaming in pain as though someone were killing her—her eyes still closed.

Emily's eyes widened and she looked to the monitor. "Her pulse and heart rate are nearly off the charts!"

"Nightmare?" Throttle asked worriedly as he jumped to his feet and firmly held Anya's shoulders down.

"No," Emily said with a frantic shake of her head as she looked to the monitors. "According to the readings, she's in pain, but that doesn't make any sense! All of her x-rays from yesterday were fine. Nothing was broken! Something else has to be causing it…even if it's just somehow psychosomatic, but I don't know what it could be."

"I don't care _what's_ causing it," Throttle growled as he now laid across Anya's body to keep the struggles of her thrashing body to a minimum as it now arched so hard and high off the bed that it nearly bent in half. "Just make it _stop_!"

Spinning on her heel, Emily took off at a dead sprint. "MOVE!" she shouted at any nurse or doctor that got in her way.

Not knowing what else to do, Throttle shifted so he could touch his antennae to Anya's forehead in the hopes of calming her if her pain _was_ indeed psychosomatic. But the moment he established the mental connection, his eyes widened behind is shades before tightly squeezing shut as his mind was suddenly filled with searing-hot agony. But to his credit, Throttle did not break the connection. Instead, he grit his teeth against the pain as his hand found one of Anya's and squeezed it tight—his body trembling with the effort it took for him _not_ to pull away from the agony. "I'm here…" he managed in a pained voice that was halfway between a whimper and a growl as he fought against the urge to roar in pain. "I'm right here with you, Annie-girl. You're…you're not alone this time…!"

"MAKE A HOLE!" Emily bellowed as she darted back to Anya's bedside with a needle in hand—pushing forcefully through the crowd that had gathered around. "Damn it, people! I said MOVE!" Making sure to get the air bubble out first, she injected the needle into Anya's IV and pushed down hard on the plunger to send the painkillers racing into her bloodstream.

After a few moments, Anya's screams stopped, and her body went limp as she resumed her deep slumber.

His body still trembling with aftershocks of the pain he had shared with his lover, Throttle slowly turned his head to look at Emily.

"Morphine," Emily said while tossing the spent needle into a nearby receptacle. "It should help Anya deal with whatever demons she's fighting right now. So…what was it?" she asked of Throttle as he slowly pulled his antennae away. "Something triggered by a memory? You'd be surprised how strong muscle-memory can be…the way a body can so vividly remember the pain that it's gone through."

"I…I don't know what it was," Throttle answered after a few moments. "I couldn't see anything…there wasn't anything to see…no images or memories of any kind. There was only pain…Gods, Emily…there was _so_ much pain. Even after you gave her the morphine there was nothing clear that I could make sense of. There was only …fuck, I don't know how to describe it." He looked to Emily with shades askew—his garnet eyes desperate as he searched for any sort of answer. "_What_ did he do to her, Em? What did that sick bastard do to my girl?"

"Whatever he did, Anya's going to need you to be strong for her. Now lie down," Emily instructed. "I don't care if you outrank me, I'm _ordering_ you to lie down and rest."

"And you're sure her x-rays checked out okay?" Throttle asked as he all but rolled off Anya's bed and onto his own cot—not fully trusting his legs to work at the moment.

"There was _nothing_ wrong, I swear," Emily answered with a shake of her head as she moved around to Throttle's side and took his pulse. "No breaks…no fractures of any kind." She sighed and tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear. "I wish I had an answer for you."

"Me too," Throttle answered softly—suddenly feeling very tired.

"I'm going to get you something to eat," Emily said as she stood. "In the meantime, you are _not_ to move a muscle unless it's to answer Nature's call. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," Throttle answered with a tired smile.

"Good," Emily answered. "I'll get one of the other nurses to cover me while I'm gone just in case." She sighed softly. "Hang in there, Throttle…" she said while patting the Martian's shoulder gently. "It _has_ to get better, right? I mean, look at you…at what you did. You're the brave knight who stormed the castle walls to rescue your lady-fair. That only means that you're destined for a happily ever after, right?"

Throttle slowly let out a breath as he reached up with one hand and gently rested it over Anya's closest one. "Gods, Emily…I hope so."


	20. Chapter 20

It's been a while, I know, but it's been one helluva rollercoaster of a year (I won't bore you with the details) on top of which I lost my flash drive with ALL my stories and notes, so updates will be slow in coming...

**Disclaimer:** I own none of the cannon characters pertaining to BMFM.

* * *

**Chapter 20**

* * *

_…Resistance hospital; the next day…_

Even in her nearly comatose state, Anya's senses were bombarded. Her nose was flooded with the smells of blood, ammonia, and human waste. Her ears were filled with pained whimpers, the beeping of machines and voices calling back and forth.

But those sounds all waxed and waned.

Beneath them all was the constant ba-bump of a heartbeat close by.

Anya focused on that sound as she slowly clawed her way out of the darkness that surrounded her. As she gradually began regaining consciousness, her nose became filled with a scent that was only too familiar to her.

Throttle!

Anya's heart raced for a moment before stilling as a new scent wafted into her nostrils.

Male…

Unfamiliar…

Clinical, glove-encased hands were touching her now, and Anya's eyes snapped open with her pupils fully dilated to the size of her irises as her head snapped to the side—snarling with her teeth bared.

The male doctor jumped back with a startled cry as he took in the feral appearance of the woman before him. "What the fuck?!"

Still snarling as she kept her gaze fixed upon the terrified man in the white lab coat, Anya's hands moved to rip the various tubes from her body, but she instantly found her hands stayed by a pair of large, furred hands.

"Easy, Annie-girl..." a smoky voice said gently. "Don't be touching anything now…you could end up hurting yourself, and that's something I simply _won't_ allow."

Anya's mind was suddenly filled with relaxing energy and feelings of deep love and devotion as a pair of antennae lightly touched her head, and after a few moments, she slowly let out a breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, her pupils were back to their normal size, and for several moments she simply stared up at Throttle as though unsure if she could trust her eyes once she had turned her head in his direction. "Throttle?" she asked hoarsely. "Throttle is that really you, or am I dreaming again?"

Smiling softly as he lightly touched his nose to Anya's, Throttle gently held her hands in his as he shifted so he was sitting on the edge of her bed. "It's really me, Annie-girl," he murmured.

"Are you sure?" Anya asked softly. "This isn't the first time I've had this dream."

Throttle was silent for a moment. "If this was a dream, would you be able to feel this?" he asked before capturing Anya's lips in a deep but gentle kiss while transmitting to her through their connection the blissful happiness of having her in his arms again…and the underlying arousal he felt from feeling the warmth of her soft body and breathing in the spiciness of her scent.

Anya shivered and whimpered softly into the kiss and her arms snaked around Throttle's neck as though afraid he would suddenly be ripped from her even though she knew now that he was very much real. From the feel of his soft fur between her fingers, to the taste of his tongue as it brushed and caressed against hers…to his unique, musky scent, Anya had no doubt left in her mind that this _was_ in fact her beloved mate. "No," she murmured one the kiss broke. "It was _never_ like this in my dreams," she added with a smile before burying her face into the crook of Throttle's neck and deeply breathing in his scent…his strong, healthy, _very_ masculine scent while still clinging to him. "Have you _always_ smelled this good? Why am I just noticing it?"

Throttle chuckled and nuzzled into Anya's hair—reveling in its soft silkiness. "Clearly you're still half asleep, because I'm in desperate need of a shower."

Anya shook her head. "You smell _amazing_…!"

Throttle smiled and continued holding his beloved close. "However good I smell to _you_, it's _nothing_ compared to how amazing you smell to _me_ right now."

There came a clearing of a throat. "I'm sorry to interrupt but…I need to take a look at your vitals," the doctor said—now recovered from his fright.

Anya turned to face him and narrowed her eyes. "Not _you_ ," she growled.

The doctor blinked. "Pardon?"

"Did I stutter?" Anya asked. "I'll have my vitals checked, but _not_ by _you_."

"But—"

"_No_!" Anya snarled. "I've had _enough_ handling from a man in a white lab coat to last me a lifetime. Get me a _lady_ doctor or nurse. I don't care _which_ one it is, but they can_not_ have a Y chromosome."

"But I'm right here," the doctor protested while his hand moved to check the IV in Anya's hand. "There's no need to—" His movements were halted when Throttle's hand gripped his tightly.

"Try touching her against her wishes _again_ and you pull back a broken limb," he said with an underlying growl. "Do what she says…_now_."

The doctor drew away once Throttle released him then held up his hands. "Alright…don't have to tell me twice."

"No…apparently we have to tell you _four_ times," Anya snarked—not fully relaxing until the man departed. Sighing softly, her eyes fluttered closed for a few moments as Throttle lovingly stroked her hair. "Oh, that feels nice…" she murmured as she leaned into Throttle's caress and a soft purr rumbled low in her throat. "So…what happened? How did I get here?" she asked while opening her eyes and adopting a look of obvious relief at finding her lover was still there.

"You don't remember?" Throttle asked curiously.

Anya sighed heavily and gave a small shake of her head. "The last thing I _truly_ remember is Karbuncle putting me in some kind of pod with needles. Everything after that is kind of a blur…of which the only thing I _really _remember is pain and the sound of my own screams…"

Throttle carefully helped Anya up into a seated position then gently pressed her against him as he embraced her. "Honestly, I'm glad you don't remember," he murmured softly while nuzzling his lover's temple. "Being tortured is bad enough…but to remember it…" He lightly kissed the shell of Anya's ear. "I'm glad you blocked it out."

Anya frowned a little as she struggled to remember. "But Throttle…I don't think…"

"Glad to see you awake and alert, lady."

Anya turned her head to see a beaming Emily standing on the other side of her bed. "Em…" she greeted with a smile as she pulled out of Throttle's arms. "It's damn good to see you."

"Bring it in here, girl," Emily said while gently hugging her friend. "Don't ever scare us like that again, okay?"

"I'll do my damndest," Anya said with a soft chuckle before pulling out of the hug. "Is Sydney okay? What about her baby?"

"Both in perfect health thanks to you, beautiful," Throttle answered while gently running his fingers down Anya's back. "So, Emily…can you check my girl out? See how she's doing?"

"Can and will," Emily said with a nod and a smile before beginning a series of bedside exams. "Well, everything looks good," she said with a relieved smile as she finished.

"Can I go home?" Anya asked.

"I'd rather you stayed the night for observation," Emily objected gently. "You've been through a lot…"

"Emily, _please_?" Anya begged softly. "I just wanna go home."

"You _did_ say that her vitals and such looked good," Throttle reminded gently.

Emily was silent in thought for a few moments. "Well…I suppose we _are_ kind of crowded in here…" A sigh escaped her. "It goes against my better judgement to let you go just like that after all you've been through, but maybe a familiar and more comfortable environment would be more conducive to your recovery. But you _have_ to promise me that you will _not_ jump back into action right away. Okay?" She looked to Throttle. "I'm putting you in charge of that."

"Trust me, I'm not letting her out of my sight," Throttle said firmly.

Emily nodded then began unhooking Anya from the monitors and machines. "Let's see about getting you out of here," she said to her friend with a soft smile. "But the _second_ I see or even _hear_ of you trying to get back out on the front lines right away, I'm having Modo drag your butt back in here and I will _personally_ chain you to the bed, is that clear?"

"Crystal," Anya replied with a mock salute once her hand was free.

"Okay," Emily said as she removed the IV. "Go on and get out of here," she said with a motion of her head towards the door.

"Here," Throttle said as he slipped off his heavy trench coat and held it up for Anya. "Seeing as how non of your clothes are here, you can wear this over your hospital gown until we get back to your quarters.

Anya smiled and swung her feet off the bed and carefully stood-unsure as to whether her legs would hold her up. She was pleasantly surprise to find that her balance was spot on, and she turned her back to Throttle so he could help her into the heavy coat. "Thanks, babe," she said as she slipped her arms into the sleeves and then did up one of the buttons so the coat acted more as a long dress than a coat.

Throttle blinked and tilted his head to the side a little. Was Anya taller? "No need to thank me, Annie-girl. I'd do _anything_ for you."

"Alright, get out of here, you two crazy kids," Emily said with a smile. "And remember what I said."

"You got it," Throttle assured as he slipped an arm around Anya's waist and held her close while leading the way for the exit.

Anya let her head fall against Throttle's shoulder and hooked her fingers into his belt loop as she wrapped her arm around his waist while they walked. "My big, strong hero…" she murmured. "I can't believe you risked so much to come rescue me…"

"I lost _one_ love to the Plutarkians already, Annie-girl…I was _not_ about to lose another," Throttle said firmly as his arm tightened around Anya's waist. "Seeing you beamed off the planet, and then _knowing_ that they were hurting you and _not_ being able to help you…" He sighed heavily. "I know it's _nothing_ compared to what _you_ were going through, but…it brought up a _lot_ of bad memories for me." They were outside the hospital now.

"Baby, don't dwell on it," Anya murmured firmly. "You got me out of there, and we're together again." She nuzzled Throttle's shoulder. "I love you _so_ much."

"I love you too, Annie-girl. Don't you _ever_ disappear on me like that again, okay?"

"Trust me…I don't plan on it," Anya replied firmly.

"That feeling of failure…if I lose you again, it'll kill me," Throttle said softly. "There won't be any coming back from it for me. I lose you again…_really_ lose you, I'm sticking the barrel of my blaster in my mouth."

Anya halted in her steps and moved so she was standing in front of Throttle. Looking up at him, she reached up and cupped his face in her hands. "Throttle Thorneboy, now you _listen_ to me," she said firmly. "I do _not_ wanna hear that kind of talk again, do you understand? If something _does_ happen to me, I want you to know and _believe_ that it was _not_ your fault."

"But-"

Anya pressed a hand gently to her lover's lips. "No," she said firmly. "BecauseI _know_ you, Throttle. I _know_ that you would do _anything_ and _everything_ in your power to make sure I come back alive…just like you did the day me and my whole squadron almost died, and just like now when you rescued me from Karbunkle. So if for some reason I _don't_ come back, it's _not_ because you failed me. I _know_ you would've done your best, and that's all I can ask for." She lowered her hand and returned it to Throttle's cheek.

"But…I'd be without you," Throttle uttered softly. "I couldn't live with that…"

"Yes, you _could_," Anya said firmly.

"No, I _couldn't_," Throttle protested. "I'm not an idiot, Anya. I know that true love doesn't happen every day. I got lucky in finding you after loving Carbine. But losing _you_ to the Plutarkians like I lost _her_…it would send me over the edge, and there would be no pulling me back this time."

"Well then…" Anya said after several moments of silence. "I'd just have to haunt your ass to make sure none of your suicide attempts work."

Despite the topic, Throttle could not help but allow a soft chuckle to escape him. "You're just stubborn enough to come back as a ghost, aren't you?" he asked with a small grin.

"You'd better believe it, buster," Anya replied with a small grin of her own.

"Well, then…in the interest of not interrupting your eternal rest, maybe I'd better wait until the gods are ready to take me."

Anya smiled and leaned up to press a kiss to Throttle's lips. "Good boy," she purred. "Now…let's go home."

"I actually wanted to talk to you about that," Throttle said as Anya moved back beside him and slipped her arm back around his waist. He responded in kind by wrapping both his arm and tail around her waist and holding her close as they began walking again in the direction of the barracks.

"Oh? What about?" Anya asked,

"I want us to move in together," Throttle said without a moment's hesitation. "I don't care _whose_ quarters we live in, Annie-girl...but I just want us to live together." He softly cleared his throat. "And once you've had a little more time to recover, I want us to be husband and wife."

Anya halted in her step once more and stood still for several moments.

"Annie-girl?" Throttle asked worriedly. "Are you-"

"You wanna marry me?" Anya asked softly as she slowly looked up at Throttle.

"More than anything," Throttle answered with a smile.

Anya smiled. "Then why wait?"

"You've been through a lot, Annie-girl…a _lot_," Throttle answered softly. "I think you could use a period of things in your life getting a chance to settle before things get changed again." He sighed and light brushed his thumb over Anya's cheek. "Give you a chance to feel normal again before you get _another_ shock to your system."

Anya's smile never wavered. "Being Mrs. Thorneboy is a shock that my system would _happily_ go through," she murmured before turning her head so she could kiss Throttle's palm. "I will _very_ happily spend however much longer I have on this planet as your wife. For the _rest_ of my life, Throttle…I _will_ love you and only you. I-"

Throttle's lips found Anya's before she could finish, and he kissed her long and slow-not caring that humans and Martians alike had to step around them. Only when the kiss broke did Throttle lift Anya into his arms and carry her bridal style down the corridor of the barracks until reaching her door. "Tomorrow, then," he murmured with a smile as he used his tail to open the door. "We'll get married tomorrow," he affirmed with a shiver of delight as Anya nuzzled his neck and nipped his pulse. "Where did you want to live? Here or next door?"

Anya deeply breathed in Throttle's scent. "I don't care…so long as we share the same bed," she said huskily before moaning softly. "You smell _so_ amazing…!" She began nibbling her way up her new fiancé's neck until she reached his ear. "I just can't get over it," she whispered.

A soft, pleasured groan escaped Throttle as Anya nibbled along the sensitive edge of his ear, and while he felt his jeans growing tight, he steadfastly placed his beloved on her feet. "Come on, Annie-girl…don't go getting me all hot and bothered when you should be resting," he said while unbuttoning his coat and then slipping it off Anya's shoulders.

Anya grinned and slowly trailed her fingers up Throttle's furred, sculpted stomach and chest. "You don't mean that, baby…" she purred

Another shiver coursed through Throttle. "Anya…_what's_ gotten into you?" he asked while gently grabbing a hold of her smaller hands to stop them from arousing him further when in all honesty, _all_ he wanted was to reaffirm their physical connection. After all the emotional anguish, he had endured in Anya's absence, _all_ Throttle wanted was to feel her warm body against his…_beneath_ his-to feel her arms and legs wrapped around him in evidence that she truly was alive and back with him.

Anya blinked then looked at Throttle as though he had lost his mind. "I just went through the _worst_ few days of my entire life…and I _survived_," she answered matter-of-factly. "_That's_ what's gotten into me._"_

"Exactly," Throttle said firmly. "You've been through a _lot_ and you need rest."

"What I _need_ is _you,_" Anya said emphatically while ripping the thin hospital gown from her body. "What I _need_ is…is to feel like I've come _home_. What I _need_ is to reaffirm our bond so I can know beyond any shadow of a doubt that I'm really here with you…that I'm _really_ out of that ninth circle of Hell." She stepped closer to Throttle and gazed up at him with desperate longing. "Please, Throttle…_please_ take me. Fuck me…mate me…make love to me…do it _all_." She slid her hands up into Throttle's hair and pressed her naked body against his-shivering as she felt his bulge pressing against her. "_Please_…after being that twisted psycho's personal plaything, just _please _remind me that I belong to _you._ Make me feel safe again_,_" she whispered desperately before kissing him as she clung to him.

Throttle's strong arms wrapped around Anya and held her close as he deepened the kiss and touched his antenna to her head. He could feel his lover's inner turmoil and anguish-the terror at what she _did_ remember even as she struggled to remember what she had blocked out. '_You **are** mine, and you **are** safe,'_ his smoky voice said is it filled her mind. _'What that twisted bastard did to you…it can't hurt you anymore._ **He**_ can't hurt you anymore.'_ Still not breaking the kiss, Throttle's hands left Anya just long enough to unbuckle his belt and unfasten his jeans before pushing them down along with his underwear. His hands were soon joined by Anya's smaller ones, and between them it did not take long before he was kicking his clothing and boots aside.

Throttle broke the kiss then so he could lovingly kiss away the tears that had started rolling down Anya's cheeks. He then lifted her into his arms and kissed her deeply again as he carried her to the bed-growling soft and low in his throat as Anya wrapped her legs around him and brought her hot core that much closer to his aching length. _'You're safe with me. So long as their is life within me, I will fight to keep you safe.'_ They were lying on the bed now, and Throttle slowly broke the kiss so he could nuzzle, nip and kiss his way down Anya's creamy throat-shivering as her little toes teased and caressed the backs of his sculpted legs. Propping himself up on his elbows, he lifted his head so he could gaze down at Anya. "I love you, Annie-girl," he murmured huskily as the head of his length brushed against her molten entrance.

Anya removed Throttle's dark glasses and placed them on the small bedside table-knowing the dim light would not bother his sensitive eyes. "I love _you_, Throttle," she murmured as she gazed into her beloved's garnet eyes and tangled her fingers gently into his hair. "My hero…" Her eyes fluttered closed, and she moaned as Throttle pushed into her to the hilt. "Yes…" she whispered while arching her back and smiling blissfully as Throttle nibbled along her racing pulse while claiming her with slow, deep thrusts. Though it had only been a few days, she had _missed_ the feel of her lover's silken fur against her naked flesh…the comfort of it.

"I've got you, Annie-girl," Throttle murmured against Anya's throat before kissing his way down the valley between her breasts and nuzzling them each in turn. "I've _always_ got you." He lovingly pressed a kiss to Anya's rapidly beating heart before shivering and arching his back as her little fingers slid down his spine. "I'll _always_ have your back…no matter _what_." He kissed her deeply and hardened his thrusts just a little-groaning in delight when Anya wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. "I love you, Anya," he murmured huskily against her lips before his head fell forward with a loud groan as his lover squeezed her inner walls tightly around him. "You're my everything…!"

And to think that he had come so close to losing her forever…

"_Nothing_ will _ever_ take you from me again," Throttle growled emphatically as his hands caressed their way down Anya's breasts and sides before gripping and raising her hips to just the right angle. "You hear me? _Nothing_," he growled while giving an emphatic thrust of his hips.

"I hear you…" Anya whimpered wantonly as she clung to Throttle and gazed up into his eyes. "I hear you…!" Her voice hitched in her throat, and her eyes fluttered closed and she bit her bottom lip and moaned before crying out wordlessly as Throttle found her inner pleasure point and sent her over the edge.

Grinning against Anya's throat, Throttle's arms snaked tightly around her and pressed her close as he raised himself up onto his knees and had her straddle him. "You're a miracle…" he murmured emphatically as he wrapped his tail tightly around Anya's waist and thrust harder into her while tangling a hand in her crimson tresses-not giving her a chance to come down form her euphoric high. "You're my living, breathing miracle…and I'm _never_ letting you go again…!"

* * *

_…Hospital…_

_"_Hey, Emma-angel," Modo said as he found his wife after not seeing either Anya or Throttle anywhere in the hospital after not finding them in their usual spot. "What happened? Where are Throttle and Anya?"

Looking up from her clipboard, Emily smiled up at her husband and stood on tip-toe to burns a kiss to his lips. "Easy, big guy…they're both fine. Anya woke up about twenty…thirty minutes ago."

Modo blinked. "And what? You sent them home?"

"Yeah, I did," Emily answered with a nod. "I didn't want to, but all of Anya's vitals were perfect, the hospital was over-crowded, and Anya was just so…on edge, I thought she'd recover better in the comfort of her own room with her own bed. She totally wigged out on one of the male doctors that tried to examine her, and she clearly wasn't comfortable being here." She sighed softly and looked sadly up at her husband. "I think it was all the lab coats…"

Modo sighed and hung his head a little. "All the needles and medical equipment probably didn't help either…"

"Oh, God…I didn't even think of that," Emily said with wide eyes. "The poor thing…no wonder she looked ready to bolt."

"You did the right thing in letting throttle take her home," Modo murmured while nuzzling Emily's soft, golden hair. "It's what she needs right now…being in her own bed with her knick-knacks around her."

Emily nodded. "Familiarity breeds comfort."

Modo kissed his wife's forehead before touching his antenna to the smooth skin. "You did good, Emma-angel. I'd better go tell everyone the news. I know Sydney and Stoker _especially_ will want to pay her a visit."

"Just be sure to tell them to take it easy," Emily said. "as much as I know they'll want to tackle her to the ground and hug her, they have to keep in mind that she's still recovering."

Modo smiled sadly. "Don't worry…Stoker knows what it's like to be on the other side of Karbunkle's experiments. He'll know to be gentle." He leaned down and pressed a tender, lingering kiss to Emily's lips. "I love you."

Emily grinned against her husband's mouth. "Maybe tonight, you can show me _how_ much," she purred.

Modo shivered. "Whoa, mama…"

* * *

_…Anya's quarters…_

Throttle threw back his head with a wordless roar of release and tightly gripped Anya's hips as she threw her own head back with her fourth, wordless, euphoric scream-his tail tightening around her waist and his movements stilling for a fraction of a second before he was thrusting into her wildly from behind. Anya's hips eagerly met every thrust as her inner walls spasmed around Throttle's length and milked him of his seed. Her cries formed a unique harmony with Throttle's and were punctuated by hitching gasps and ragged pants, and as her loved tangled a hand into her hair and gently pulled her head back, she turned her head and met his lips eagerly in a deep, hungry kiss which became slow and tender as Throttle's wild bucking gradually slowed into a gentle rocking.

Words failed them both, but fortunately for them, they did not _need_ words.

Throttle communicated his every feeling to his beloved by touching his antennae to her forehead, and even if he had not felt the swell of emotions coming from _her_, he would have known by the soft whimper followed by a small sniffle and the lone tear that rolled down Anya's cheek that she felt the same way.

Finally, when Throttle knew his trembling body could no longer remain in its current position while holding Anya steady, he loosened his tail while very slowly pulling out of his beloved before carefully easing the both of them onto their sides where he wrapped his arms around her and spooned her. Still panting, he smiled when Anya turned in his arms so she was facing him and was only too happy kiss her when her soft lips sought his as their legs tangled together. He shivered when Anya slowly licked his buck teeth after the kiss broke. "If you want to go again, I'm going to at least need a glass of water, Annie-girl," he murmured huskily with a soft chuckle.

Anya chuckled softly and lightly rubbed her nose against Throttle's. "Baby…you gave me _four_ orgasms in a row. I think I'm good for at least a _few_ minutes," she added with a playful wink before wrapping her arms around her lover and nestling into him with a smile. "Just think…this time tomorrow, I'll be _Mrs._ Thorneboy."

Throttle smiled and brushed a kiss to Anya's forehead. "I can't wait to be married to you…to be able to call you my wife." His hands were gentle as they stroked his beloved's smooth, creamy back. "And when this war is finally over, we can work on having a family."

"You're already imagining me pregnant, aren't you?" Anya asked with a soft chuckle.

"Guilty," Throttle answered sheepishly.

"Like what you see?" Anya asked with a small smile.

Throttle gently tilted Anya's face up to his. "I _love_ what I see," he murmured while gazing deeply into her eyes. "You're beautiful to begin with, but seeing you with a bump and knowing that it's _my_ baby in there…gods, Annie-girl…it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen._ˆ_

"Let's see if you still feel that way when I'm nine months along, ready to pop and waddling like a fat penguin," Anya replied cheekily.

Throttle chuckled. "I thought you were beautiful even when you were kicking my ass after that one patrol. You will _always_ be beautiful to me, Anya," he murmured earnestly. "_Nothing_ will ever change that." He kissed her tenderly while gently tucking a lock of crimson hair behind her ear. "Your my future wife and the future mother of my children...and I love you more and more with every breath I take."

A lone, blissful tear rolled down Anya's cheek, and she turned her head to brush a kiss to Throttle's palm when he gently wiped the tear away with his thumb. "My future husband and father of my children...I couldn't ask for a better man to spend the rest of my life with," she murmured while combing her fingers through the silken fur on her beloved's chest before resting her hand upon his heart. "I love you with very beat of my heart, Throttle...and I never want to be apart from you again."

"You never will be, Annie-girl," Throttle said emphatically as his arm tightened around her-his tail wrapping around her shapely thigh.

They both looked to the door when they heard the knock.

"Who is it?" Throttle asked.

"It's all of us," Stoker's voice answered from the other side of the door.

Throttle looked to Anya with a raised eyebrow-silently asking if she wanted the visitors or if they should be sent away.

Anya smiled and untangled herself from Throttle's embrace so she could roll out of the bed. "Just a second," she called while gathering up Throttle's coat and slipping it on before fastening up all the buttons and then sitting on the edge of the bed.

Chuckling softly, Throttle rolled out of bed and padded over to where he had kicked his pants and pulled them on. "Come in," he said just as he zipped up.

The door quickly opened, and Stoker rushed in with Sydney, Charley, Vinnie, Modo, Rimfire and Jax right behind him. There was a pileup however when Stoker stopped dead in his tracks as the heavy smell of sex hit him, and he raised an eyebrow while looking at Throttle.

"You don't waste any time, do you?" Stoker asked with a small chuckle.

Throttle gave a small shrug. "We've got nothing to be ashamed of," he said while moving to the bed and sitting beside Anya. "Besides...can you _honestly_ blame me?"

Stoker sighed and gave a small shake of his head. "No...I honestly can't," he answered as he crossed over to the bed and knelt in front of Anya and looked into her eyes. "Are you okay? Tell me honestly...there's no need to be a hero. Are you okay?"

Anya gave Stoker a small smile. "I'm okay...really. I honestly don't remember anything after Karbunkle...after he started..." She tensed and trembled, and even though she averted her eyes, Stoker still saw the panic rising within them.

"Ssssshhh...ssshh...it's okay," Stoker soothed while reaching up and gently cupping Anya's cheek as Throttle wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Anya? Anya, would you please look at me? That's it...that's a girl," he said with a smile when Anya had returned her gaze to him. "It's okay..._you're_ okay. He can't get to you now. He can't hurt you anymore...you're safe."

Anya's mind swam in a sea of violent impulses and instincts that she did not understand, and she tightly squeezed her eyes shut as Stoker spoke to her-only opening them slowly when she felt more herself. She gave Stoker a small smile. "I...I know," she said softly. "I...I'm alive. I'd say that makes me more than okay."

His gaze never wavering from Anya's, Stoker placed his hand upon her knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You saved my wife. You saved our baby...I will _never_ forget that," he said emphatically. "And if I live a thousand years, I _still_ wouldn't be able to thank you enough for what you did."

"I'd do it again," Anya said softly with a small smile.

"Don't say that," Sydney entreated as she moved forward and sat on Anya's other side while taking one of her hands in both her own. "When I stop and think about what you must've gone through...and all because you were saving my butt and taking _my_ place..."

"It had to be done," Anya replied simply in a soft voice. "You're a vital asset to the Resistance..._and_ you're pregnant." She gave a small shrug. "I had no other choice...I couldn't let them take you." Her eyes widened in shock when she found herself on the receiving end of a tight hug from Sydney.

"Thank you," Sydney whispered. "My baby is safe thanks to you." She kissed the younger woman's cheek. "Thank you so much. If there's ever anything Stoker and I can do for you..._anything_ at all, just ask. _Please._" She slowly pulled out of the hug.

Anya smiled softly. "Just have a healthy baby...and make sure he or she knows that _I'm_ the cool aunt," she added with a wink.

Sydney smiled. "I will."

"That last part is up for debate," Jax said cheekily as she moved forward. "If _anyone _is going to be the cool aunt, it's yours truly. Now move over, so the _rest_ of us can hug the returning hero."

* * *

_...Stoker and Sydney's quarters..._

Kneeling in front of his wife, Stoker wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her belly.

"Do you think Anya will be okay?" Sydney asked softly while lovingly stroking her husband's hair.

Stoker sighed and lifted his wife's shirt so he could pressed a kiss to her belly button. "Physically, she doesn't seem the worse for wear, but mentally and emotionally...time will tell on that one. I could see it in her eyes...she's scarred for life. She might not consciously remember what happened to her, but subconsciously...she _knows_," he said sadly while standing. "Then again, no one I know of who's lived to walk away from Karbunkle's lab table has ever been baggage-free afterwards." He made his way over to the bed-his metal swishing as he walked. "As well adjusted as me, Throttle, Modo and Vinnie might seem, we still carry that experience with us."

Sydney watched her husband with sad eyes as he began stripping down for the few hours sleep that were afforded to him before he would have to get back to work. "I know...your nightmares wake me sometimes," she said softly.

Stoker smiled softly as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Feeling your arms around me though...it helps," he said before hanging his head a little. "If anyone can get Anya through this, Throttle can."

Sydney hung her head. "He wouldn't _have_ to if it wasn't for me."

Stoker looked his wife squarely in the face. "Now you listen to me," he said firmly. "What happened was _not_ your fault. Anya doesn't blame you, and neither should _you_."

"But _I_ was the one they wanted," Sydney said softly while rubbing her belly.

"Sydney, _enough_," Stoker said firmly as he stood and crossed the distance between his wife and himself before gripping her shoulders. "I want no more of this survivor's guilt," he said while looking deeply into Sydney's eyes. "It was horrible what happened, _yes_...but it's over now. Anya is alive and back with us. _You're_ safe...our baby is safe and growing inside of you. I'd say that makes this whole situation a win."

Sydney sighed softly and let her head fall forward against her husband's shoulder. "I know...I just..."

"I know, beautiful..." Stoker murmured while nuzzling his wife's dark hair and holding her close. "I know..." He gently rubbed her back. "As horrible as this might sound...I'm glad it happened this way." His arms tightened around her. "I would've died if anything happened to you or our baby, and _trust _me...once it was discovered that you were pregnant, Karbunkle would've had a field day."

Sydney shuddered. "I don't want to think about what that monster would've done to our baby."

"Trust me...you _don't_," Stoker said emphatically. "Karbunkle is to my people what Doctor Mengele was to the prisoners in Nazi concentration camps." He nuzzled Sydney's temple then tenderly kissed her forehead. "Come on...let's not think about it anymore." He began leading his wife to the bed. "Let's get some sleep while we still can."


	21. Chapter 21

Thank you everyone who read and reviewed my last chapter, as always, you guys are awesome and you truly keep me going when I don't feel like writing anymore.

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters pertaining to BMFM...unfortunately.

* * *

**Chapter 21**

* * *

_...Mess hall; the next day..._

Sitting at one of the many tables in the crowded mess hall, Anya hummed softly and absently drummed her fingers on the worn surface as she waited for Throttle to bring their food. She slowly cast her gaze around the large, familiar room while slowly letting out a sigh of relief to be there instead of back in her cell on the Plutarkian ship. The change of sound that came from her nails hitting the table instead of the pads of her fingers caused her to stop humming and instead look down at her hand, and she drew her eyebrows together as she slowly raised her hand and stared intently at her fingers. She narrowed her eyes a little in concentration as she felt something on the edge of her consciousness trying to push itself to to the front of her mind, and her breath caught silently in her throat as images of her hands caked with blood and gore flashed through her mind.

The images were vivid.

She could feel the hot blood cooling upon her skin.

She could smell its metallic scent.

As the image of her tongue licking her fingers clean of the blood flashed through her mind, Anya could _taste_ it.

Taste...

Anya's lips parted just a little, and unbeknownst to her, her pupils began dilating as a rush of excitement seized her-making everything other than the memory of the blood vanish from her mind. There was an odd buzzing her head as an alien feeling of blood-lust began taking a hold of her

"Anya? Anya? Earth to Anya..."

The buzzing in Anya's head stopped, and she came back to herself with a small gasp as she rapidly blinked her eyes and turned towards the voice to find Charley pulling out one of the chairs across from her. "Charley...hey," she greeted with a small smile. "Sorry...guess I spaced out for a second there..."

"No kidding," Charley said with a soft chuckle. "Now, I know our society has programmed us to expect a ring when we get married, but circumstances just don't allow for us to waste the metal right now," she said with a sympathetic smile. "Trust me...when Vinnie and I were first married, my finger felt empty, but I got used to not having a ring after a while. In any case, I'm sure once the war is over, Throttle would be happy to have a ring made for you. I know Vinnie's promised to get one for me."

Anya blinked then simply stared blankly at the older red head for a moment. "Huh?" she asked simply.

"You were staring at your hand," Charley answered in explanation. "Considering how you and Throttle are getting married today, I thought you were imagining how a ring would look on your finger."

Anya blinked then realization dawned on her face. "Oh..._oh_..." She chuckled softly. "I honestly wasn't thinking about that."

It was Charley's turn to blink. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Anya answered with a nod. "I really just spaced out..."

"You looked so...focused," Charley said while absently rubbing her belly. "You must take spacing out seriously," she added with a soft chuckle.

Anya simply chuckled softly before smiling at the older woman. She unconsciously sniffed the air and got a full whiff of Charley's pregnancy hormones. "You doin' okay? Any morning sickness?"

Charley sighed. "Only _all_ the time," she answered. "The thing is though...I don't throw up. I just feel constantly seasick twenty-four-seven without the relief that vomiting brings."

"Yikes," Anya replied with a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah...and don't even get me started on how sore my boobs are," Charley added dryly. "I'm not even showing yet, and I _still_ unable to sleep on my stomach because that position hurts my boobs."

Anya sighed softly. "How are the others doing?"

Charley sat back in her chair. "Let's see...Jax has become a borderline narcoleptic with all the random naps she takes, Emily eats double what she normally eats, and Sydney is an emotional mess."

Anya chuckled and sat back in her chair. "Nice to know what I've got to look forward to once this war is over."

"_What_ do you have to look forward to?" Throttle asked as he placed his and Anya's trays down on the table before sitting beside his fiancé.

"All the symptoms and side-effects of pregnancy," Anya answered with a teasing grin to her lover as she leaned over and nuzzled his shoulder-deeply taking in his scent. "Think you can handle it all, sugar?"

Throttle grinned and nuzzled his beloved's air in return. "Bring it," he said while pushing Anya's tray so it was in front of her

"You say that _now_, bro...but just you wait until Anya's turning green with nausea and there's next to nothing you can do about it," Vinnie said as he sat down beside Charley and placed a prized can of lemon-lime soda in front of her. "Here, babe...I managed to snag you a can," he said softly before taking the can once more and opening it under the table as quietly as he could. "Hopefully it'll help," he said while placing the can in front of his wife.

Charley smiled lovingly up at her husband and kissed him softly as her hands closed around the can. "Thanks, babe...you're so good to me."

Vinnie smiled and gently tucked a strand of auburn hair behind Charley's ear. "You're my wife and you're carrying my baby. It's my job to take care of you..._both_ of you," he said simply.

"Never thought I'd see you grow up so much," Throttle said with a soft chuckle as he began eating his food. He stopped when he caught Anya simply staring down at her tray with her upper lip curled up in revulsion. "I know it doesn't look that great, Annie-girl...but you _have_ to eat something."

"It's _not_ the appearance that's turning my stomach...it's the _smell_," Anya answered while covering her nose with a hand. "The yellow stuff smells like stale puke, and the brown strip of what I'm assuming is meat smells like burnt leather."

Throttle drew his eyebrows together. Anya's sense of smell had never been this strong before...

"Yeah, well...as bad as it might smell to you, it's still food," Vinnie urged. "You need to build up your strength after what you've been through."

Anya heaved a martyred sigh before pinching her nose closed and taking up the strip of meat before gingerly taking a bite-her displeasure evident as she chewed. To her credit however...she swallowed.

"That's it, Annie-girl...one bite at a time," Throttle encouraged.

"Lord have mercy, this is the worst thing I've ever tasted in my life...!"Anya managed to say before she gagged. She felt the meat rising up on her and she dropped what she had int her hand so she could clamp a hand over her mouth and forced it to stay down.

Vinnie took the meat into his hand and sniffed it before taking a bite. "It's no worse than usual," he said while chewing. "It's over-cooked, sure...but hey, meat's meat," he said with a shrug of his shoulders after swallowing his mouthful.

Throttle rubbed his fiancé's back in attempts to help her through the ordeal as she dry-heaved. "It's okay..." he soothed softly as he looked worriedly to Vinnie and Charley. "It's okay, Annie-girl...it'll be okay."

When her need to vomit ceased, Anya slowly lowered her hand and looked to Vinnie. "_That_ is _not_ meat," she said vehemently. "Meat should be _red_ and _bloody..._" _And fresh_, a voice inside her head added. "...and that is _not_ what this is," she added as once again images of her blood-caked hands flashed through her mind. She gave a small shake of her head before pushing her chair back. "I'm not hungry," she said while standing and looked down at Throttle. "My head hurts...I'm going to take a little nap before our wedding," she said with a small smile.

"I'll go with you," Throttle said as he began pushing his chair back.

"No, it's okay," Anya said with a small wave of her hand. "I'll be okay," she said before leaning down and brushing a kiss to Throttle's lips. "I love you."

"I love _you_," Throttle replied while lightly rubbing his nose against Anya's. "I'll join you in a little while," he added softly before his beloved turned on her heel and left. Throttle watched her go for a few moments before turning to face Charley and Vinnie.

"Okay, tell me honestly..." Charley asked while holding her soda can in both hands. "Does something seem...off about Anya?"

"She's _just_ come out of an extremely traumatic experience, Charley-girl," Throttle said after a few moments-wanting desperately to believe that there was nothing out of the ordinary with his beloved. "I think she's allowed to be a little edgy."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Charley said with a small nod. "On a completely unrelated note...and feel to call me crazy, but...does she seem, I dunno...taller to you?"

Throttle tilted his head to the side a little. "You noticed that too? I thought I was imagining it yesterday when I was walking her home from the infirmary, but...yeah, he _does_ seem a few inches taller. Was she slouching before her capture and I just didn't notice?"

"I don't know," Charley admitted with a shrug. "I mean...she always seemed to be walking straight and upright enough, but maybe she _was_ slouching just a bit?"

"I never noticed, and in any case, she'll be fine," Vinnie said with a soft sigh. "She's lucky...she's got the chance to walk it off, which is more than what Modo, Throttle, Stoker and me had." He sighed again. "We had to get right back into the fight...we had no other choice."

Charley let her head fall onto her husband's shoulder. "It just speaks to the inner strength of the four of you that you were able to move past it all the way you did," she said while hugging Vinnie's arm.

"It was either _that_ or die," Throttle said simply. "It was just us Martians against the Plutarkians, and we _needed_ every able body in the fight." He sighed softly. "We were forced to deal with what happened to us a lot quicker without dwelling on it...taking her out of the field like this, I just don't know if it's necessarily better."

"Yeah, but unlike _us_, bro...Anya's got _you_ to help her through it," Vinnie said with a small smile. "You've been through this before...you can help her navigate through whatever's going on in her head."

"I know...and I'm going to do _everything_ I can to help her through this," Throttle answered with a small smile before standing. "I shouldn't leave her alone for too long," he said. "Or actually...I _can't_ leave her alone for too long."

"Don't worry about it," Charley said with a smile and a wave of her hand. "After what the two of you have been through, it's understandable for you two to be attached at the hip for a little while. Go on and be with your fiancé. We'll see you both later at your wedding in the chapel," she added with a wink.

Throttle's smile grew as he nodded. "See you at the wedding." He blinked. "Mother of Mars...I'm getting married," he said softly as the reality fully hit him.

"Yeah, you are," Vinnie said with a grin. "And once you're a member of the club, I'll teach you the secret handshake.

"I'll hold you to that," Throttle said with a chuckle before turning on his heel and hurrying towards the door. All the while he walked, he tried _not_ to think about the ways in which his fiancé had changed since her capture...the way she would randomly space out, the way she seemed to be suddenly ruled by her sense of smell...

The spacing out made perfect sense to Throttle. After all, Anya had survived a severely traumatizing experience, and unlike Throttle, Modo, Stoker or Vinnie, she had been given the time to dwell on what had happened to her-what she could remember in any case. But the sense of smell...not to mention her vivid description of just _how_ meat should be..._that_ was what left Throttle completely grasping at straws as he made his way towards the barracks on autopilot. He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not notice the woman attempting to rush past him in the crowd until they had run into each other and he knocked her down by accident.

"Oof!" the woman said as she landed on her butt.

Throttle blinked. "Crap, I'm sorry," he said as he hurriedly stooped and helped the petite woman to her feet. "Sorry, so sorry...my mind was a million miles away."

"It's my fault," the woman said with a wave of her hand and a sheepish smile. "I should've known better than to rush in this crowd, but I'm late for my shift."

"Don't let me keep you," Throttle replied with a small but friendly smile as he moved aside so the woman could continue on her way.

"I'm Kathy," the woman said with a smile. "Do you maybe want to meet up later for a drink?"

"Sorry, I'm getting married later," Throttle said simply with a smile. "And I'm not missing that for _anything_."

Kathy looked crestfallen. "Oh...okay, well...congrats. Your fiancé is a...she's a very lucky lady," she said before turning and hurriedly disappearing into the crowd.

Chuckling softly and giving a small shake of his head, Throttle continued on his way. Married...he was getting _married_. All thoughts of Anya's new quirks were pushed to the back of Throttle's mind as he thought over the fact that within the next couple hours, Anya would not longer be his lover and girlfriend...she would be his wife.

His _wife_...

Throttle's heart raced in excitement, and as his smile grew, he completely lost track of his journey until he was standing in front of Anya's door. Quietly opening the door for fear of awakening his beloved in the event that she truly napping, Throttle deeply breathed in the scent that filled the room. It smelled of Anya, and Throttle could detect his own lingering scent beneath it...adding to it and making it complete. They would move into Anya's quarters. Throttle decided that right then and there as he closed the door behind him-taking great care not to make a sound once he made out the shape of Anya's sleeping form in the dim light of the room.

He simply could not stand the thought of _not_ being surrounded by Anya's scent when he came home from a hard and dangerous day of fighting a war. Who knew how long it would take for his own room to be filled with Anya's scent? Throttle was not prepared to take that chance...not when it came to the best scent he had ever had the privilege to smell in his life. It warmed and comforted him-giving him the hope that he needed to go on fighting in a war that seemed to be as endless as the one he and his people had fought back on Mars. As Throttle silently removed his boots and coat before making his way as quietly as possible to the side of the bed and simply gazing down at his sleeping fiancé, he knew that _all_ he wanted was for the war to be over so he could make his fantasy of Anya being round with his child a reality.

Smiling, he put his shades down on the nightstand then carefully eased his way down onto the bed and draped his arm over Anya as he spooned her from behind. "I love you _so_ much," he whispered while nuzzling his way into Anya's soft, red hair.

Sighing softly as a smile played over her lips, Anya turned in Throttle's embrace and nestled into him...only to have her eyes snap open a moment later when a strange scent filled her nose. Gripping her Martian's fur, Anya buried her nose in Throttle's chest and breathed deep before glaring up accusingly at him. "Who is she?!" she snarled.

Throttle blinked in genuine confusion. "She? She _who_?""

"Don't lie to me!" Anya cried while shoving Throttle clear off the bed. "I can smell her on you!" She screamed while sitting up. "How could you?! After everything...? We're getting married today! How could you?!"

Having shaken off the surprise at finding himself floor-bound, Throttle knelt up and held up his hands in a placating way. "Okay, Anya...I need you to stop and think about what you're accusing me of," he said calmly. "_Me_...the guy who's ever loved _two_ women in his _entire_ life. A girl bumped into me on my way back here from the mess hall, and I helped her back up to her feet," he explained. "That's _all_ that happened." Even in the dim light of the room, Throttle could see Anya rapidly blinking her eyes before a look of horror crossed over her face.

"Oh, God...oh, Throttle..." She raised a trembling hand and covered her mouth. "Throttle...I'm _so_ sorry. I...I don't know...I don't know _where_ that came from," she whispered before lying back down on the bed and pulled a pillow over her face.

Throttle stood and crawled back onto the bed while gently pulling the pillow from Anya's face. "Annie-girl...my Annie-angel, you've been through some serious trauma. It's kind of expected that your emotions would be running a little high right now."

"Yeah, but _not_ towards _you_," Anya said mournfully. "Christ, Throttle...I love you down to the marrow of my bones, and I trust you with my _life_. But..." She bit her bottom lip. "But, I dunno...I mean, I caught a whiff of that other woman's scent all over you and...and I just got so...so..._territorial._ Even now, all I can think of is stripping the both of us down and rubbing my body all over yours so I can wipe away any evidence of her, and the very thought of that is driving me crazy because that's _not_ who I am." She tried putting the pillow back over her face but found her actions thwarted when Throttle would not let go. "Ugh...don't look at me," she mumbled before rolling onto her side so she faced away from her fiancé. "I just acted like some psycho bitch made a total ass of myself."

Throttle smiled softly. and put a hand on Anya's shoulder to gently roll her so she was once again on her back. "I can't help it...I'm completely addicted to you and _everything_ about you." He leaned down and tenderly kissed her soft lips. "Besides...we're getting married in a couple hours. I kinda _have_ to look at you," he added with a teasing wink and a grin.

Anya was serious as she gazed up at Throttle. "Throttle...are you _sure_ you want to marry me?" she asked softly.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my whole life," Throttle answered without a second thought before kissing Anya again. "I love you, Anya...you're my world, my _entire_ world. You're my friend, my lover, my soulmate...and I can't wait until I'm able to call you my wife."

Tears threatened to spill, but Anya blinked them away. "But you didn't sign up for whatever buckets of crazy I'm dealing with right now..."

Throttle slowly stroked Anya's cheek with the backs of his knuckles while gazing deeply into her eyes. "I signed up for _you..._you and everything that comes with you." he said emphatically before lovingly kissing away the tears that had begun rolling down Anya's cheeks. "There's no need for tears, beautiful...this is a happy day, remember?"

"Yeah...I remember," Anya whispered with a smile. "It's the first day of the rest of our lives." She sighed softly. "I'm sorry I put this little bump in the road."

Throttle smiled and lightly rubbed his nose against Anya's. "It's the bumps that make things interesting, Annie my girl." He kissed her softly. "Annie-angel." He kissed her again before giving her a cheeky grin. "So...does that offer of ripping off our clothes and rubbing your body all over mine still stand?"

Giggling, Anya grinned up at Throttle while slowly combing her fingers through the fur on his chest and even more slowly tracing them down his sculpted stomach "It might..." she answered with an audible purr as her fingers now toyed with the waist of her lover's jeans.

Throttle shuddered and groaned softly as his eyes fluttered closed in response to the feel of Anya's nails grazing his skin. "Groovy..."

* * *

_...Chapel; later..._

In the room that served as the multi-denominational chapel for the Resistance, Throttle and Anya stood hand in hand as they faced each other in front of all their friends. However, the two of them might as well have been alone because nothing outside of the two of them mattered at that moment-not the happy smiles their friends directed to them or even the words of the minister as he conducted the ceremony. For Throttle and Anya, all that mattered was the two of them, and that they were alive and together as their souls knew they should be.

Because there were so many people of different faiths fighting side by side, the religious leaders of each base had been forced to invent a way in which to combine and unify the religions of all who lived and fought side by side. It had not been easy, but because it had been necessary to the fostering of camaraderie amongst the soldiers-to make them see the bigger picture in the midst of all their differences-it had been done.

"Do you, Throttle Thorneboy...in front of your friends and gods, take Anya for your wife and eternal mate? Do you promise to love her, honor her, comfort her and protect her through thick and thin, for better or worse for as long as you shall live?" the short minister asked while looking up at Throttle.

"I do," Throttle answered fervently without a moment's hesitation as he gazed deeply into Anya's eyes. "I _will_." His thumbs lovingly brushed over his beloved's creamy knuckles. "I swear it on my life," he added.

The minister smiled and turned to Anya. "And do _you_, Anya Blaine...in front of your god and your friends, take Throttle for your husband and eternal mate? Do you promise to love him, honor him, comfort him and cleave to him through thick and thin, for better or worse for a long as you shall live?"

"I _do_," Anya answered while squeezing Throttle's hands. Within a matter of moments, he would be her husband-and they would be starting a brand new chapter in their lives

"Then by the power vested in me by the planet of Earth and _all_ the deities present, I now pronounce the two of you husband and wife," the minister said with a smile before he looked to Throttle. "You may now kiss your bride."

Throttle gently pulled Anya towards him and pressed her close as he kissed her chastely but earnestly-his tail wrapping tightly around the both of them as he touched his antennae to her head and shared with her just how euphorically happy he was.

Anya clung to Throttle even after the kiss broke, and she deeply breathed in their combined scents that still clung to his silken fur. It was her lifeline as she was suddenly put on edge and filled with a feeling anxiety when their friends closed in on the two of them to offer their congratulations.

Throttle felt Anya's unease rapidly rising, and his arms tightened around her. _'It's alright.'_ His smoky voice filled Anya's mind and remained calm in the face of her rising distress. '_Our friends won't hurt you. You're safe. You're safe with them. You're safe with me. You're safe with all of us.'_

Anya took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as she willed herself to calm down.

_'That's it...that's my girl...'_ Throttle kissed Anya tenderly before turning to greet his friends with a smile as they gave him brotherly thumps on the back and shoulder-all the while keeping hi tail as well as an arm wrapped around his wife's waist.

"Oh, sweetie, congratulations!" Emily exclaimed happily as she hugged Anya and kissed her cheek.

"I just know you two are going to be happy," Jax said with a smile. as she hugged Anya once Emily had moved away.

It was Charley's turn, and she kissed Anya's cheek while hugging her. "I've known Throttle for _years_. He's a good man. He'll take good care of you."

Anya smiled-feeling calmer now. "I know," she answered softly. She had just been about to hug Sydney when an unfamiliar hand rested upon her shoulder, and she snarled while narrowing her eyes as she gripped that hand and reached behind her to grab the body to which the hand belonged-flipping the poor minister over her head and sending him flying nearly across the room.

"ANYA!" Everyone cried in shock.

Sydney and Emily hurried to the minister's side to check him for injuries while Throttle tightened his hold on Anya to keep her from lunging at her victim as she was currently trying to do.

"Anya. Anya, look at me!" Throttle turned his wife to face him and his heart stopped in his chest when he saw that Anya's green eyes had turned completely black and that she was now baring her teeth at him. However, he pushed any fear he might have felt aside in favor of wrapping his arms and tail tightly around his wife so her arms were pinned to her side before touching his antennae to her head. His mind was immediately flooded with a red haze that was fueled by the raging instinct to fight...to _kill_, and it took all of Throttle's effort and focus to channel calming thoughts into his wife's mind as he gazed deeply into the blackness of her eyes. _'Come back to me, Annie-angel. Come on...don't leave me just after you've married me. Listen to my voice and come back to me...please._

Anya stilled and went rigid in Throttle's arms before her eyes snapped tightly shut. She spasmed once...twice, and then slowly opened her eyes to reveal that they had gone back to their normal green. "What happened?" she asked softly.

"You threw me across the damned room, you psychopath," the minister growled from his place on the floor.

Anya's head snapped in the direction of the voice, and her eyes widened. "I...I did?" She rapidly blinked her eyes. "Everything blanked out when...when you touched my shoulder. I'm...I'm _so_ sorry."

"Sorry?" the minister repeated as Stoker helped him to his feet. "You nearly kill me and _all_ you have to say is _sorry_?!"'

Throttle growled when Anya visibly shrank into him, and he pointedly positioned himself in front of her and shielded her from the minister's angry glare. "She's a recovering POW who's just been and she's got PTSD," he said evenly. "You must've startled her when you touched her shoulder from behind, but she didn't mean anything by it, so please just let it go."

The rest was a blur to Anya. As Throttle protectively escorted her out of the chapel with Stoker and the others bringing up the rear, she could hear the minister cursing and grumbling angrily, and it was all Anya could do not to run off in tears-mostly because Throttle was holding her so tightly.

What was happening to her?

Was it truly something as simple as PTSD or was it something more?

Anya felt as though she was losing her mind, and she instinctively all but burrowed into Throttle's strong body in the vain hope that he would keep her safe from whatever monster was lurking within the shadows of her mind.


	22. Chapter 22

Thank you everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter :)

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters pertaining to BMFM...unfortunately.

* * *

**Chapter 22**

* * *

_...Maverick quarters, a week later..._

"I _love_ this freckle patch," Modo murmured with a smile and an underlying growl as he leaned down and nuzzled the back of Emily's neck while wrapping his arms around her from behind-his hands resting lovingly upon her belly.

Emily chuckled and fondly rolled her eyes before shivering in delight. "You're _obsessed_ with that thing," she murmured with a smile as her hands joined her husband's. She had been about to leave their room and head in for work, but she was happy to allow Modo to stop her for a few moments of snuggling.

"I can't help it," Modo said with a chuckle. "Martians don't have freckles...I can't help but think yours are adorable." He gave the freckle patch the lightest of nips. "And this is the only place you've got 'em...just makes this little patch even cuter."

Emily chuckled softly. "My mom didn't think it was so cute when I was little...she thought it was a patch of dirt."

Modo blinked. "What?"

Emily chuckled again. "She thought it was a patch of dirt...she scrubbed the back of my neck until it was raw before she realized it was a clump of freckles."

Modo snorted softly then chuckled. "Whoa, mama..."

"Yeah...she was super apologetic though one she realized her mistake," Emily said with a giggle. "I remember, she let me have a giant bowl of ice cream once I was out of the tub."

"I'd say it was a fair trade," Modo said with a smile as Emily turned in his arms and nestled into him. "If our baby is born without fur, I hope to the Gods that he or she has freckles," he murmured while wrapping his tail loosely around the two of them. "How're you feelin' today?"

"My boobs are killing me," Emily answered with a tired sigh. "And I've got a mean craving for watermelon...but other than that, I'm fine," she said with a smile.

Modo sighed and nuzzled his wife's hair. "Wish there was somethin' I could do.'

Emily's smile grew. "I know, big guy...and that makes me love you even more." She stood on tip-toe and kissed her husband. "I gotta get to work."

"I'll walk with you," Modo said as he allowed Emily to step away and open their door. He followed her out then draped his tail around her waist as he rested his arm over her shoulders as they walked.

"Have you talked to Throttle lately?" Emily asked as they walked down the corridor.

Modo gave a small nod. "Yeah, he seems..._frazzled_. Seems like he's constantly on edge whenever he's forced to leave Anya for his patrol duties."

Emily sighed softly. "Anya's got PTSD..._and _they're newly-weds. It can't be easy for Throttle to leave her alone right now. Starting a married life together in a time of war is hard enough with emotions and anxieties running as high as they are, but when you add Anya's problem to the mix..."

"Yeah, I know..." Modo said with a heavy sigh. "Just pisses me off is all. After everything those two have been through, they deserve a period of smooth sailing, you know?"

"Yeah, I know..." Emily said with a small nod. "If any_one_ deserves a nice, long honeymoon, it's _those_ two."

They stepped out of the long corridor and into the spacious, main cavern, and Modo pulled them to a halt as he looked off to the right-the fur on the back of his neck standing on end.

"Modo?" Emily asked curiously. "Is everything okay?"

"I dunno..." Modo answered as he focused his gaze upon the dark shadows in the corner. "I thought I saw something."

"What?" Emily asked.

Modo gave a small shake of his head. "Nothing, forget about it. Guess Throttle's not the only one on edge," he said with a small chuckle as he began leading Emily in the direction of the clinic. A rushed blur of movement caused his head to snap back in the direction of the dark corner, but whatever he had seen had vanished into the crowd. "Okay, that time I _know_ I saw something."

"Modo...you're starting to scare me," Emily said softly while gripping her husband's hand.

"Stay here," Modo ordered firmly before untangling himself from his wife and striding the distance to the dark corner. Not wanting to draw too much attention to himself and thereby cause a panic by arousing worry within those around him, he never said a word and tried to appear casual as he peered into the shadows-going as far as to lean against the wall and cross his arms over his massive chest. Within a few moments, he made out the eviscerated corpses of several rats, and his stomach turned.

"Modo?"

Turning, he saw Emily approaching, and he quickly closed the distance between them and ushered her away. "Don't go over there," he said in a low voice.

"Why?" Emily whispered. "What's wrong?"

"Rats," Modo answered. "Lots of dead rats...was like they had been torn apart by a bigger animal."

"Gross," Emily said with a grimace. "Well...maybe there's a feral cat lurking around. Lord knows _some_ animals must've survive the initial attack on the planet and sought shelter underground like the rest of us."

Not wanting to worry his wife, Modo did not tell her that the blurred figure he had seen rushing away had been far too big to be a cat...not to mention bipedal. War had a habit of bringing out the worst in people, so instead he simply nodded and resolved himself to be extra vigilant. After all, it would only be a matter of time before whoever killed the rats grew tired of vermin and moved onto larger targets. "Yeah...you're probably right."

* * *

_...Thorneboy quarters..._

Her fingers were caked with blood and gore again.

Only _this_ time, it was not vision in Anya's mind.

Staring down at her fingers, Anya tried desperately _not_ to hyperventilate, but the metallic taste of blood in her mouth coupled with the fact that she had no memory of how she had gotten to her current state was making it increasingly difficult to stay calm. The last thing Anya remembered was being hungry...so _very_ hungry. After doing little more than picking at the food in the mess hall for an entire week, Anya had found herself in th grips of a voracious hunger that would not be denied.

And that was the last thing she remembered before everything went black.

Going to the small sink, Anya turned on the faucet as hot as it would go and proceeded to frantically scrub her hands under the scalding water. She watched as the bloody water circled the drain before vanishing, but when she glanced up into the mirror and saw the blood smeared around her mouth, the relief she had felt only moments before was ripped from her. Her eyes widened in horrified revulsion as she began subjecting her mouth to the same treatment as her hands-whimpering in pain as the water burned her lips and the inside of her mouth. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she rinsed the inside of her mouth before spitting out the bloody water. Only when she had finished cleaning herself and thereby removed the evidence of whatever it was that she had done, did Anya turn off the faucet and slowly sink to the floor. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she hugged them to her chest before burying her face in her knees and weeping silently.

* * *

_...Garage; hours later..._

"Where's the fire, Throttle?" Vinnie asked as he hurried after the tan-furred Martian.

"You know I don't like being away from Anya any longer than I have to," Throttle answered as he continued moving at his quick clip-his trench coat billowing behind him as he strode on. "She _needs_ me. I'm...I'm her safe place."

"Safe place?" Vinnie asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, her safe place," Throttle repeated. "When she's having a bad time, I hold her close, touch my antennae to her head and channel soothing, loving thoughts into her head. It helps keep her calm and anchored..."

"So she doesn't haul off an attack someone?" Vinnie ventured cautiously.

Throttle remained silent, though his tail gave an agitated swish.

Vinnie cleared his throat. "Still too soon to be funny?" he asked with an obviously abashed look.

"Still too soon, Vincent," Throttle said simply.

"Sorry, man..." Vinnie said while rubbing the back of his head. "You know I didn't mean anything by it, right?"

Throttle sighed heavily. "I know...I know cracking wise is your way of dealing with things. Gods know that your humor's kept us all afloat at one point or another, but...it's not working for me right now."

Vinnie grabbed a hold of Throttle's shoulder and gently pulled him to a halt. "Throttle...I know we're guys and by definition, we're not supposed to be all touchy-feely, but...you _know_ you can talk to me, right? I mean, I might not know _exactly_ what you're going through, but I can still listen." He lowered his hand and shuffled his feet a little. "It's just...I remember how you kept everything bottled up after Carbine...and I don't want to see you do that again. It's not healthy..."

As Throttle turned to face Vinnie and took in the sight of all his earnestness, he found that simply did not have the energy to keep his troubles to himself as he normally did. Sighing heavily, he hung his head a little and ran a hand through his hair. "I just...I _know_ something's not right with Anya. I can feel it in my gut, you know?"

"You think it's something more than PTSD?" Vinnie asked.

"Yeah," Throttle answered with a small nod. "You didn't see her face when she attacked the preacher...her eyes...it wasn't Anya looking back at me. I don't know who or _what_ it was, but it wasn't Anya, and I'm thinking it has to do with whatever Karbunkle did to her."

Vinnie slowly let out a breath. "She still doesn't remember?"

Throttle shook his head. "No...and every time she _tries_, she starts having a panic attack and it's all I can do to calm her down. Then she gets frustrated because she genuinely _wants_ to remember."

"Well...maybe she _will_, when it's not so fresh, you know?" Vinnie ventured.

"Yeah, you're probably right, I just...I _hate_ seeing her like this and _not_ be able to fix the problem. She's my wife...it's my duty to protect her. What kind of husband am I if I can't even protect her from _this? _Fuck, Vincent...we've only been married a _week_ and I'm already failing her."

Vinnie rested his hand on Throttle's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Listen to me, Throttle...you're _not_ failing Anya. A lesser man would've turned tail and run, but you stuck by her. You're _still_ sticking by her. I mean, look at you...you never really know what kind of situation you'll be walking into, and yet you can't _wait_ to get home to your wife to be with her and help her in _any _way that she needs. You love her and you genuinely _want_ to be there by her side no matter _what_." He gave his friend a smile. "From where I'm sitting, bro...that's _not_ failure. That's being a husband...and a damned good one at that."

Throttle gave Vinnie a small smile. "Thanks, bro," he said softly.

"You feeling better?" Vinnie asked.

"Yeah...a little," Throttle answered with a small nod. "Thanks for the talk."

"Anytime," Vinnie said with a smile while giving Throttle's shoulder another squeeze before lowering his hand. "I hate to leave you like this, but I want to swing by the infirmary and see if I can get something for Charley's nausea..."

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine," Throttle said with a smile while patting Vinnie on the back. "Go be a good husband to your wife."

Vinnie smiled. "Don't have to tell me twice," he said before turning and heading in the direction of the infirmary.

Alone now, Throttle started for the barracks again at a quick pace before finally falling into a full sprint-his every instinct screaming at him to get to Anya as quickly as he could. When he finally arrived at their door, he wasted no time in opening it and closing it behind him the second he was inside. He was instantly greeted by the sight of Anya crouched by the sink, and he cautiously made his way to her side before kneeling beside her. "Anya? Annie-angel? Are you okay?" he asked softly while gently touching his wife's shoulder. "Anya?"

Anya had not moved from her spot from the moment she had first gotten in her current position. Truth be told, she had been afraid to. Not even when her husband had entered the room and knelt beside her did she so much as raise her head or look in his direction. Only when Throttle's hand gently turned her face towards him did she allow her eyes to meet him.

Even in the dim light, Throttle could see that Anya's eyes were red from crying and that her cheeks were still stained with her tears. But beyond that, it was the gaunt, haunted expression on his wife's face that made him forget how to breathe for a few moments. "Annie...sweetheart, what is it? What's wrong?" he asked softly as his hands gently cupped Anya's face.

"Throttle...I think I'm losing my mind," Anya said in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

"Why do you think that?" Throttle asked softly.

"I...I keep blacking out," Anya murmured. "I blacked out again _today_...and it lasted longer than the other times. Like all the other times...I don't remember what happened. I don't remember where I went or what I did...I just know that it was _bad_."

"Anya...sweetheart, what makes you say that? If you don't remember what happened, then why are you assuming that it was bad?"

Anya's bottom lip trembled and a fresh wave of tears welled up in her eyes. "I just _know_," she said softly-unable to bring herself to tell Throttle about the blood. "I can feel it in my gut."

Throttle pulled Anya gently into his arms and held her close. He slowly rocked her back and forth when she clung to him and began sobbing into his shoulder. "Sssshhh...hush now, Annie-angel..." He nuzzled his wife's ear and gently rubbed her back. "I'm here now...I've got you..." As he touched his antennae to Anya's head to channel calming, loving thoughts to her, he tried sifting through her memories to see if he could help her piece together the missing pieces of her day. But, as with every other time he had attempted doing so during the past week, he came up against an impenetrable haze of red.

"Throttle?" Anya asked meekly once she had calmed down. "What's happening to me?"

"I...I don't know," Throttle admitted softly after several moments of silence as he simply held his wife close. "But whatever it is, I'll be by your side every step of the way. You won't be facing this alone. I swear it on our marriage...I swear it on our love."

Anya gnawed on her bottom lip. "Throttle...are you _sure_ you still want me?" she asked softly. "You have my permission to walk away from our marriage right now, and I won't hold it against you. This can't exactly be how you imagined spending your married life..."

Throttle gently tilted Anya's face up to his. "The way I imagined spending my married life was with _you_," he said fervently. "I love _you. _I want _you_, and I wouldn't trade a single moment with you for anything in the galaxy." He kissed her lips tenderly. "I'm your husband, Anya," he murmured. "And I _will_ help you shoulder this burden. _You_ pulled _me_ out of _my_ black hole, remember? I was sinking further into the abyss of my depression and I didn't give two fucks what happened to me until _you_ came into my life. _You_ saved me from myself and made me _want_ to live."

"Is that what you call kicking your ass?" Anya asked wryly.

Throttle smiled lovingly. "It was that ass-kicking that made me realize that I was still alive, and it was _you _that made me realize that I _wanted_ to live...that I _wanted_ to get back to being the man I once was...all for _you..._to be the man that you deserved." He kissed Anya tenderly again. "And _that_ man is loyal to his last breath and _never_ turns his back on his family." He rested his forehead against hers. "I love you, Anya...and no matter what happens, you're stuck with me."

Anya leaned in and kissed Throttle earnestly while clinging to him.

Throttle growled softly and kissed Anya deeply while pressing her against him. His growl only deepened when Anya's hands moved down and began unfastening his pants. "You're mine, Anya..." he murmured huskily against his wife's lips as he stood them both up then began unfastening her jeans while leading her to their bed. "_Mine_...and there is _nothing_ in this entire galaxy that could _ever _make me turn my back on you."


	23. Chapter 23

Thank you everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter :)

To my friend, **Lenadexil**, thanks for the plot bunny, chica! It's a small one, but it added a little extra something to the chapter :D

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters pertaining to BMFM...unfortunately.

* * *

**Chapter 23**

* * *

_"The hunger inside given to me  
__makes me what I am.  
__Always it is calling me  
__for the blood of man..."_

_- 'Redeemer' by Marylin Manson_

_...Stoker's office; a week later.._.

Looking up at the sound of a throat clearing, Stoker blinked before his eyes widened in surprise at seeing Anya standing just inside the doorway. "Hey, stranger," he greeted with a smile as he stood and moved around his desk. "How're you doing?" He pulled Anya into a gentle hug. "You feeling okay? Is Throttle treating you alright? Because I'll kick his tail if he's not."

Anya managed a smile and a soft chuckle as she slowly pulled out of the hug. "No need for a tail-kicking...he's been nothing short of amazing and wonderfully supportive."

"Good. That's what I like to hear," Stoker said with a smile as he took a step back. "So, what can I do for you?"

"You can put me back out in the field," Anya without missing a beat.

Stoker blinked. "Excuse me?"

Anya sighed. "Please, Stoker. I'm going crazy with nothing to do. Spending my days alone in Throttle's and my room...I feel like I'm literally losing my mind."

Stoker gave a small shake of his head. "Anya, I...I just don't know..."

Anya took a step closer to the older Martian. "Please, Stoker...you don't have to put me back in charge of my squadron...I will gladly fall in and take orders from whoever's replaced me, just please...please, please, please just let me ride again."

In all honesty, after her last blackout, Anya was terrified of being alone...with anyone. As it was, she barely trusted herself around Throttle. Her blood-caked fingers and face still haunted her memories, and she thought that if she had an actual target for her fugue state aggression-that she could only assume was her mind's way of dealing with what she had endured at Karbunkle's hands-then perhaps she could get whatever it was out of her system. Perhaps it would allow her to work through the deep-seeded trauma that her psyche had seen fit to bury deep within the darkest recesses of her mind.

Stoker gave Anya a long, hard stare. "No," he said after several moments of silence.

Anya blinked then looked to Stoker with an expression of utter desperation. "Stoker, please!"

Stoker crossed his arms over his chest and leveled a steely-eyed stare upon the petite red head. "No," he repeated firmly. "I've seen too many Martians in my time ride out onto the battlefield after experiencing severe trauma and actively seek death out death at the end of a Plutarkian's blaster because he couldn't deal with what he had been through. If this is your way of committing suicide by Plutarkian, I am not going to help you."

"That's not what I'm doing, I swear!" Anya exclaimed. "I want to live, Stoker. I want to be the best wife Throttle could ever have. I want to have his children." Tears welled up in her green eyes. "But I can't do any of that if I'm constantly afraid that I'm going to snap. You saw what I did to that preacher after Throttle's and my wedding...what if I do something like that or worse to Throttle? I couldn't live with myself."

"Then take as much time as you need to get your head screwed on straight," Stoker said simply. "Sort through your thoughts. You've got a rare opportunity here, Anya...back when this war was still on Mars, soldiers and Freedom Fighters alike would've killed for the chance to sit out the fighting for a spell so they could come to terms with all the badness they had encountered, but they never had that option. Our numbers were too limited, so as soon as they were patched up and battle-ready, they were sent right back out onto the field." He sighed. "Not a day goes by that I don't wish that things had been able to be different."

At a loss and desperate for Stoker to grant her some form of release, Anya decided to let him in just a bit. "You don't get it do you?" she asked as a tear rolled down her cheek. "Stoker...I don't know how else to say this, but I can feel myself slipping." She nervously bit her bottom lip. "The only way I can even come close to describing what I'm feeling...what I've been feeling since I woke up in the hospital is that...that there's some kind of darkness inside of me...like this raw rage looking for a way out. I can feel it...every minute of every day scratching and clawing at me from the inside..."

Stoker was silent for several moments. "Have you told Throttle? Have you talked to him about this?"

Another tear rolled down Anya's cheek. "Tell him what, Stoker? That I live in constant fear of turning on him? Besides...even if I did tell him, he wouldn't leave me." She wiped her cheek. "Please...I need to get back into the fight because sitting around on my ass and being alone with my thoughts obviously isn't helping me."

"The answer's no, Anya," Stoker said firmly while crossing his arms over his chest. "If you think I'm sending you up to the surface in your current emotional state, you've got another thing coming." The utterly defeated look upon Anya's face broke Stoker's heart and it took all his self-control not to recant his decision and let the petite red-head have her way...that and the fact that Anya turned on her heel and hurried from the room before Stoker could say anything.

He stood in his now empty office and stared at the space that had so recently been occupied by Anya for a few moments before crossing to his door and motioning for the two closest soldiers to approach him-one human and the other a Martian. "Did you see the red-head that left my office? I want you to follow her...watch her. Do not engage her directly, but make sure that she does not under any circumstances go to the surface. Keep in touch via radio and report any unusual behavior to me immediately. Understood?"

"Understood sir," the taller of the two said with a nod before they both set off in pursuit of Anya.

Standing back on his heel, Stoker ran a hand tiredly through his hair before sighing and putting his hands on his hips. His every instinct was screaming at him that something bad was going to happen, and while he hoped and prayed that he was wrong, he knew there could be no denying the gut instincts that had been forged through his many years as a soldier.

* * *

People...

There were too many people...their sounds, their smells...

It was all becoming too much for Anya, and as she made her way back towards the barracks, she felt as though the walls were literally closing in around her. Every bump and jostle she received from the crowd of human and Martians milling around her as they hurried off made it increasingly difficult for her to breathe as her heart raced wildly within her chest and tears streamed freely down her face. Every smell and thrum of life from those around her overwhelmed her senses, and Anya wrapped her arms tightly around herself in attempts to center herself and keep herself anchored as she felt the very thing within her that she had told Stoker about rising up for control.

Yet, in spite of her distress, Anya could not help becoming aware of the fact that she was being followed. Two scents remained ever constant behind her-never once wavering in direction.

Two strong, unfamiliar male scents...

As she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise up, Anya also became aware of her vision swimming before it began darkening, and she knew within moments that she would fall prey to another blackout.

"No...!" she whispered frantically-her panic only rising when she noticed that her cuticles began bleeding as her nails lengthened. This blackout was different from the others, and as Anya felt herself losing the battle against the force within her and vanishing within the darkness, all she could do was weep as she vainly attempted to remain in control.

* * *

"So...any idea why Von Rotten is having us tail this chick?" the human soldier asked. "Not that I'm complaining...it's an easy assignment, and that red head's got a killer ass. Seriously, look at that thing. I just wanna grab it!"

"Keep it in your pants, Erikson," the Martian growled. "You're married."

"I can still look, Gestirn," Dan Erikson replied with a lecherous grin. "I can look and wish that my wife had an ass that fine..."

Pluto Gestirn frowned at the human's attitude. "If you're not going to respect your wife, then at least have some respect for the wife of one of your superiors. That's Commander Thorneboy's wife that we're following."

Dan looked up at his dark-furred patrol partner. "What?"

"You heard me," Pluto answered simply. "And she just survived being Karbunkle's test subject, so it makes sense that Stoker would be concerned about her." He shuddered. "That poor woman…"

"Figures we'd lose another hot girl to you guys," Dan grumbled. "At this rate, there won't be any left for us."

Pluto's ears flattened a little as his tail gave a small but agitated swish. "Excuse me?" he asked while keeping one eye upon Anya's petite frame as she moved through the crowd.

"Did I stutter, Gestirn?" Dan asked flatly. "Our women keep flocking to you Martians in droves."

"Our race is dying," Pluto said with an underlying growl as he narrowed his eyes. "Or maybe you missed that part. Because of what happened on Mars, my people are now an endangered species, and without females, we will die out."

"Yeah? Well, where does that put our race?" Dan asked as he stopped in his tracks and glared up at Pluto. "With every female that isn't nailed down signing up to shack up with you furry freaks, what does that do for my race when this is all over?"

Pluto's tail gave another swish as he too came to a halt and faced off with the shorter man. "Consider it a small payment for our helping you against a race that would have long since wiped you from this planet had it not been for our help and advanced technology."

"Yeah? Well, where's the attraction?" Dan demanded. "Fur, tails, rabbit teeth and giant ears? Is it the fact that you all have the bodies of Mr. Universe that makes our women look past the fact that they're essentially engaging in bestiality?"

Pluto's ears flattened completely against his head as he looked down upon Dan. "My people are every bit as sentient as yours. We are not mindless beasts. But in keeping pattern with your ignorant insults, maybe your females are running to my people with open arms because we appreciate them in ways that the men of your species never could."

Dan squared off his shoulders. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Pluto narrowed his eyes. "Mere seconds ago, not only were you oggling Mrs. Thorneboy and fantasizing about her ass, but you were belittling your wife in the process. That is what I'm talking about," he said with a growl. "You humans have had it easy...you know nothing of what it's like to suffer having every hope for your species future snuffed out right in front of you. Every Martian lost someone on that horrible night back on Mars...a mother, a lover, a wife, a daughter...no female was safe from that act of murder no matter what their age, and that is why any Earthling female that chooses to be mated to a Martian is treated like a queen by her mate. Every Martian fortunate enough to have found a female to be mated with spends every free moment showing her just how much she means to him because he knows what it is like to face the bitterness of total annihilation. In his human mate, a Martian sees hope for the future whereas someone like you sees your wife as the thing keeping you from jumping the bones of whatever pretty girl walks your way."

Before Dan could speak, there was the sound of a throat being cleared over their ear pieces.

-_"As much as I hate to break up this obvious love-fest, I'm going to need the two of you to continue this pissing match of yours on your own time!"_- The annoyed growl in Stoker's voice was not to be mistaken. -_"Focus!"_-

"Yes, sir," Pluto said stiffly into his radio-angry with himself at letting his partner distract him from the task at hand. "Copy that."

-_"Anything to report?_"-

"Shit..." Dan said after looking around. "We lost her in the crowd. I can't see her."

"She should count her blessings," Pluto grumbled under his breath before pushing his way through the crowd. "Stand by, Sir..." he uttered into his radio. "Stand by...I see her. Repeat, I have a visual."

-_"Is she alright? What's she doing?_"-

"She's just...kinda standing in a corner," Dan said once he had Anya in his sights.

-_"Come again?_"-

"Target is facing a wall with her back to the crowd Sir," Pluto clarified. "I can't tell for sure from this angle, but it appears as though her head is resting against the wall." He tilted his head to the side. "It looks like she's repeatedly running her fingers down the wall. Orders, Sir?"

_-"As of now, orders haven't changed. Wait and watch what she does, but do not engage her unless she is in obvious need of assistance. Something doesn't feel right."_-

"Copy that, Sir," Pluto replied with a small nod.

Dan rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Whatever. She's one chick...call me crazy, but I don't think she poses much of a threat," he said before pushing his way through the crowd and making his way towards Anya.

-_"Erikson! Erikson, stand down!_"-

"Don't worry so much," Dan said dismissively.

-"Gestirn, go after him!"-

"On it, Sir," Pluto said before hurrying after Dan-his eyes widening when he saw the deep scratch marks being left in the wall as Anya's fingers slowly dragged down the solid surface. "Erikson! Erikson, stop!"

"You guys are being paranoid over nothing," Dan said before reaching out and tapping Anya's shoulder once he was close enough to do so. "Excuse me, ma'am...are you-"

He never got a chance to finish his question.

The last thing Dan saw was Anya's black-eyed, feral face as she whirled around to face him with a snarl moments before he felt sharp points slash across his throat-the only sound escaping him was a gurgle as he choked on his blood.

"Shit!" Pluto hissed while drawing his blaster as he took a step back-screams and chaos ensuing around him as the people milling about erupted into panic at the sudden murder.

-_"Gestirn! Gestirn, report!_"-

"She...she killed him! She fucking killed Erikson!" Pluto shouted into his radio to be heard above the din. "She tore his fucking throat out! I'm taking her down, Sir."

-_"Negative! Do not attack! I repeat, do not attack!"_-

Pluto was about to respond, but Anya darted forward and slashed her claws across his belly before she vanished into the chaotic crowd. "Sir...I'm injured..." he bit out through clenched teeth as he sank to the floor while dropping his firearm and pressing his hand firmly to his stomach to staunch the blood flow. "She got me...she got me good, Sir...!"

-_"Hold tight, soldier! I'm coming! Help is on the way!"_-

Pluto heard Stoker barking orders over the radio waves, but it did not take long before he lost consciousness as his body began going into shock.

* * *

_...Surface..._

"Commander? Hey, Commander...are you hearing this?"

Throttle looked up from the large map upon which he was currently plotting out an attack. "Hearing what?" he asked the young human soldier. "What're you talking about, Velazco?"

"That's the thing...I don't really know what to make of it, Sir," the young man said while pressing his headphone piece tighter against his ear in attempts to make sense of all the shouts. "Whatever it is, it's bad...oh, hang on, Sir...there's a call coming in for you." He motioned for Throttle to approach him. "You can listen on my headset. Just give me a chance to switch to a different channel so it comes in clearer.

Stepping away from the large table, Throttle moved around to the smaller table upon which Velazco had the radio. He accepted the headset when it was offered to him and held it to his ear in such a way that the microphone was positioned hear his mouth. "This is Commander Thorneboy. Go ahead." He could not help the sinking feeling in his stomach.

-_"Throttle! Throttle, it's Stoker! Anya's on the surface! Repeat, Anya's on the surface and she's left a wave of destruction in her wake!"_-

Throttle felt his heart grind to a halt. "Come...come again?" he asked in a strangled voice.

-_"Anya is on the surface!_"-

"How did that even happen?!" Throttle demanded-his heart racing wildly now.

-_"Whatever Karbunkle did to her, Throttle...it's bad. It's reared its ugly head, and it is bad! She killed two people and severely injured twenty more on her way out. Three of them are in critical condition._"-

Throttle could not breathe.

Killed? Anya had killed two of their own people? Two?!

Dropping the headset, Throttle whistled for Lady and leapt up onto her without even waiting for her to pull to a stop. He all but slammed his helmet onto his head before roaring off towards the base as he contacted Vinnie, Modo and Rimfire. "Bros! There's something wrong with Anya! She's lose on the surface somewhere, so keep an eye out for her. I know it's a lot to ask right now, but please, I'm begging you! If you see her, contact me immediately with the location!'

-_"What do you mean something's wrong with her?_"- Rimfire's voice crackled in Throttle's ear.

"I don't know for sure," Throttle answered tersely as he continued riding at a breakneck speed. "It has something to do with whatever Karbunkle did to her, but we have to find her!"

-_"Relax, bro,_-" Modo's deep voice rumbled soothingly. -_"We'll find her._"-

"Be careful!" Throttle warned with an underlying desperation. "Anya...she's not herself. Just...just be careful, okay?! Don't engage her. Detain her...keep her penned in, but do not engage her! Don't get too close to her!"

-_"Why?_"- Rimfire asked.

"Just do what I say!" Throttle snarled.

-_"We'll get your wife back, bro,_"- Vinnie said with uncharacteristic seriousness. -_"Gods as my witness, we'll get her back and we'll fix what's wrong with her._"-

Throttle snarled. "Karbunkle did this to her! When I get my hands on him, I will make him pay!"

-_"Focus, bro,_"- Modo said calmly in attempts to sooth his friend. -_"One problem at a time."_-

Throttle nodded as he continued at his breakneck pace. "You're right...you're right. Find and save Anya first...drop Karbunkle and Limburger into vats of acid inch by inch later."

-_"And we'll be right there tying 'em up for ya, bro,_"- Modo said. -_"Just you...wait...wait, guys! Guys, I see her! I see her!"_-

"Coordinates_ now_!" Throttle roared. Once Modo had told him where he was, he turned Lady in the right direction. "Remember what I said. Do not engage her!"

-_"Uh...Throttle, to be honest, I don't think I wanna get anywhere near her."_-

-_"What're you talking about?"_- Vinnie asked.

-_"Oh, shit…!"_- Rimfire breathed in a fearful voice. -_"Throttle...she...she's tackling Plutarkians off their rides and tearing them limb from limb with her bare hands."_-

"Don't let her leave!" Throttle roared. "I'm almost there! Just keep her contained until I get there!"

-_"Uh, bro...Valkyrie's kinda doing that for us,"_- Vinnie said. -_"He's circling her like a shark on speed and she's not happy about it."_-

"Form a perimeter around Valkyrie," Throttle ordered. "Do not let her past you!"He narrowed his eyes behind his shades. "Lady, I know I'm pushing you hard, but I know you've got some more kick in you, so please..._please_ get me to my wife as fast as you can."

Lady did not disappoint her rider, and it was with a final burst of speed that she brought Throttle to where he needed to be.

Dismounting, Throttle looked on in horror as his blood and gore-covered wife snarled and shrieked in rage among the eviscerated remains of Plutarkians as her attempts at making a break for it were thwarted time and time again by her motorcycle. "Gods…" he breathed as he took in the sight of his beloved Anya looking so feral an animalistic. "Anya…" He took a step forward only to have his path blocked by Modo.

"Throttle…"

"Get out of my way," Throttle growled tersely as his ears began flattening against his head and his tail swished angrily..

Modo put down L'il Hoss' kickstand. "You know I can't do that," he said in a calm but firm voice. "I'm not letting you go to her right now."

"She needs me!" Throttle roared as he attempted to push past the larger Martion only to find his way barred by Modo's unyeilding, robotic arm.

"Throttle! Throttle, look at her!" Modo barked while narrowing his eye. "That is not Anya! You go to her right now, and she'll rip you apart."

"I don't care! She's my wife!" Throttle snarled while fighting to move past Modo only to have his attention snapped back to Anya upon hearing her shriek, and finding her flying through the air towards them after having jumped over Valkyrie.

"Shit!" Vinnie and Rimfire cried before the latter took out a tazer and sent the electric prongs flying into Anya's spine.

Falling to the ground with a scream, Anya's blood-soaked body spasmed and writhed upon the ground before several minutes before the shock of the electric currents to her system finally rendered her unconscious. Small tendrils of steam rose from her clothing, and her fingers tiwtched from residual currents.

"YOU BASTARD!" Throttle roared as he ducked around Modo and lunged at Rimfire-this time being stopped by Vinnie as the white-furred Martian got him into a modified sleeper hold. "Let me go, Vinnie! I'm going to beat seven shades of red out of that little punk!"

"Throttle! Bro...calm down," Vinnie said through clenched teeth as he struggled to keep a thrashing Throttle within his grasp. "I don't want to make you fall asleep, but if you don't stop struggling, I will. Rimfire had to do it. You know he did. If it had been someone else instead of Anya, you would've done the same thing. You know I'm right." He paused as Throttle's struggles slowed and then finally ceased. "Are you good? Can I let go?"

Throttle remained silent for several moments as he took one deep breath after the other. "Yeah…" he said tersely. "You can let go." The second Vinnie released him, he dropped to his knees beside Anya and cradled her to him while lovingly stroking her blood-soaked hair. "Oh, baby…" he murmured shakily while taking in the sight of her. With Anya's head lolled back as it was, Throttle was able to see that her canines had lengthened into actual fangs, and he looked on in horror as what appeared to be talons slowly receded back into her cuticles until they one again resembled fingernails. "My Annie-girl...what did that psychopath do to you?"

"Um...Throttle," Rimfire began nervously after softly clearing his throat. "Not to be 'that guy', but...we should get her back to base while she's still out. I mean, she got hit with a lot of voltage just now, but who knows how much longer it'll keep her under."

"We should tie her up too," Vinnie ventured cautiously. "Just in case she wakes up on the drive back…"

"Throttle?" Modo prompted in a gentle but firm voice that was meant for pulling his comrade out of his stupor without being confrontational. "Throttle, are you here? Are you with us?"

At length, Throttle gave a small nod though his gaze never wavered from Anya's face. "Yeah…" he answered softly. "I'm with you."


	24. Chapter 24

Thank you everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter :) Just as a little side-note, sorry if certain sentences didn't flow very smoothly, but for some reason kept messing with my end-dashes, and no matter how many times I would go in and correct them, in the Doc Manager, they would STILL appear as mere hyphens instead of the actual form of punctuation I was trying to use. Again...REALLY sorry about that :(

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters pertaining to BMFM...unfortunately.

* * *

**Chapter 24**

* * *

_...Infirmary…_

As he surveyed the wounded being seen to by the nurses, Throttle could not believe the damage Anya had caused all by herself. Walking slowly down the aisle between the two, long rows of hospital beds, Throttle took in the sight of his wife's victims and was filled with a gripping sorrow. While he was indeed genuinely sorry for those who had gotten in Anya's path, it was the fact that his wife had been the one to inflict such carnage that made Throttle's gut violently churn and his heart feel as though it were being squeezed in a vice.

Anya was capable of violence. Throttle maintained no illusion to the contrary. His wife was a warrior. That was simply who she was, and Throttle had known that from the very first moment they had met. Anya had faced down countless threats before the war as a Texas Ranger, and she faced down infinitely greater threats after the war had begun. But in spite of all that, Anya had never attacked an innocent. It went against against everything she stood for to do such a thing...and yet within the span of a few hours, all that had changed. The rows of bandaged and bleeding patients under the infulence of pain medication was proof of the line Anya had crossed.

And it was all because of Karbunkle.

The entirety of Throttle's tall, muscled frame trembled with rage, and it was all he could do to keep from throwing back his head with a primal roar of anguish. What was he to do now? How could he even begin to fix the damage Karbunkle had caused? Throttle already felt incredibly guilty for depositing Anya into the glass chamber down in the labs, but he knew it was necessary so Sydney could draw blood and tissue samples from her in order to run tests to see just what it was Karbunkle had done.

And she was not the only one who was busy.

Emily had taken it upon herself to pour over every single X-Ray and CAT Scan taken during Anya's stay at the hospital, and Stoker had his hands full as well. The veteran soldier was working like mad doing damage control and trying to explain the situation to everyone on base. Throttle could not hep but wonder if Stoker's silver tongue would be able to get the job done.

What would happen if it did not?

Would the soldiers demand restitution for what happened?

Throttle's blood ran cold at the thought.

What if the residents of the base demanded Anya's blood? What if they demanded that she be exiled to the surface? Would Stoker give in to their demands?

Would Throttle allow him to do so?

"Commander Thorneboy?"

Throttle looked to his right to see a large, black-furred Martian with a heavily bandaged midsection. He tilted his head to the side in recognition. "I know you...Pluto, right?"

In spite of the pain medication he was on, Pluto managed a small smile as he nodded in reply. "That's me."

Throttle softly cleared his throat. "Are you here because of my...?"

Pluto nodded slowly. "She got me good...but the medics got to me in time," he said softly.

"That's good," Throttle answered in a soft voice.

"My partner wasn't so lucky."

"I'm sorry," Throttle replied-not knowing what else to say.

"He was an ass...but he didn't deserve to go out like that," Pluto said softly before clearing his throat. "If you don't mind my asking, Sir...and I really don't mean any disrespect, but...what the fuck happened? Why would she...?" He winced as the memory if Anya's attack brought on a phantom pain in spite of his medication, and he gingerly rubbed his bandaged middle.

Throttle sighed heavily and hung his head. "Karbunkle happened," he answered with an underlying growl. "That fucking psychopath used my wife as his lab experiment the whole time she was a prisoner on Limburger's ship."

Pluto's eyes widened a little before narrowing. "What'd that freak do to her?"

"I have no idea," Throttle answered with an air of helplessness. "Anya doesn't remember...but Doctor Von Rotten is running tests as we speak."

"I lost a brother to Karbunkle," Pluto said with a weak but audible growl. "For what it's worth, I hope you find a way to help your wife, Sir. After what happened on Mars...we can't afford to lose any more females."

"Gods as my witness, Pluto...I will help my wife or die trying," Throttle said firmly. "You rest up now and get better. The Resistance needs good men like you."

Turning on his heel, Throttle strode out of the infirmary at a quick clip and pointedly started for the labs. No matter the outcome, Throttle would share in it with his wife. Through thick and thin, for better or worse...those had been the vows he had taken when he had married Anya.

And this was certainly worse.

* * *

_...Lab…_

Sydney looked up from the microscope and tried not to allow herself to become unnerved by the sight of a now very much awake Anya slowly pacing back and forth within the glass confines of her cage. She was not worried about the redhead breaking through the glass. It had been designed to withstand the bulk and weight of a full-grown Plutarkian so tests could be conducted on them. Such was the fate of the few Plutarkians that had been taken prisoner.

How else were poisons, viruses and other methods of chemical weapons to be tested?

No, it was not fear of the glass breaking that had Sydney on edge. Rather, it was the fact that Anya never once stopped staring at her as she paced back and forth like a caged animal. Every time Sydney looked, the redhead's gaze was locked upon her. How long had it been since Anya had blinked?

"Find anything yet, Sydney?"

Sydney looked up to see Throttle striding through the door only to stop in his tracks upon seeing that Anya was awake and very much alert.

"When did she wake up?" Throttle asked as he stepped towards the closest of the glass walls.

"About twenty minutes ago," Sydney answered while returning her gaze back to the slide under her microscope. "And she's been eyeing me the way a lion eyes a gazelle ever since. Between you and me, it's making me more than just a tad uncomfortable."

Throttle sighed as he took in the sight of Anya's black gaze. To see eyes that were normally so vibrant and green now so dark and souless was more than a little unnerving. "Have your learned anything?" he asked as he gazed at his wife who had paused in her pacing to watch him curiously. "Please tell me you learned something, Sydney," he begged earnestly without removing his gaze from Anya.

"Oh, I found something," Sydney confirmed with a heavy sigh as she pushed her chair back from her work station. "Problem is...I don't know just what it is I found."

"How do you mean?" Throttle asked while looking over his shoulder at Sydney.

Sydney sighed and leaned back in her chair and absently rested a hand upon the slight swell of her belly. "Well, as you know, I drew blood samples from Anya when you and the guys brought her in earlier...and I've been running test after test upon the samples to try and get to the bottom of what Karbunkle did to her."

"And?" Throttle prompted while turning his gaze back to Anya and shivering just a little when he found that she was still staring at him. "Wow...that really is unnerving," he muttered before softly clearing his throat and taking a step closer to the glass and pressing a hand against it his hands widening just a little in surprise when Anya stepped closer to the glass and pressing her hand against his while curiously tilting her head to the side. "What did you find?"

"Okay, well...for starters...Anya's blood type has been completely changed," Sydney answered. "She was type A, but now she's AB."

Throttle blinked behind his shades, drew his hand away from the glass and turned to face Sydney. "Okay...I'm not an expert in human biology, but...is that even possible?"

Sydney shook her head. "No, it's not...at least, not by normal circumstances." She sighed and gave a small shrug of her shoulders. "But then again, who knows what kind of technology Karbunkle has at his disposal?" She sighed again. "And I wish I could say that the change in blood type was the only weird thing I've seen during the course of my tests."

"What else did you find?" Throttle asked. "And please keep in mind that I'm not a scientist by any means."

"Okay…" Sydney began as her mind worked to find a simple way to explain her findings. "Anya's blood isn't fully human anymore." She shifted in her seat. "At first I tought it was a mechanical error of some kind, so I did the test three more times...and the results were the same each time. While AB is a perfectly normal human blood type, Anya's double helixes are unlike anything I've ever seen before. The only way I can describe it simply is...it's as though Karbunkle ripped half of Anya's helix away and attatched one that was completely different in its place."

Throttle was silent for a few moments as he tried to make sense of what Sydney had just told him. "Okay...but how would that change Anya's entire personality? Is blood linked to behavior?"

Sydney sighed heavily and ran a hand through her hair before shaking her head. "No." She blinked when she saw Emily rushing towards the door with Modo, Jax, Rimfire, Vinnie, Stoker and Charley on her heels. "Em? What happened? What's wrong?" she asked worriedly.

"Guys! You have got to take a look at Anya's scans," Emily said breathlessly as she waved the large, glossy pages.

"Okay, well hurry and put them up on the white board," Sydney said while motioning to the large board that was covered with various equations.

"Jesus tap-dancing Christ…" Charley breathed.

Throttle turned and followed his friend's gaze back to the glass cage to find that Anya had resumed her slow pacing-not once removing her unwavering gaze from the group. "I know…" he said softly.

"Oh, Throttle…" Charley said while drawing close to her friend and hugging him. "Throttle, I'm so sorry."

Before Throttle could respond, Anya threw herself against the glass with a shriek that could be heard even through the thick wall of her cage. His eyes widened in shock at the look of raw rage that twisted his wife's lovely face into a feral mask, and he hurriedly stepped away from Charley just as Vinnie drew her close and placed her behind him.

"What the fuck?" the white-furred Martian asked as Anya calmed down and resumed her pacing. "She totally flipped out when Charley got close to you."

"Come to think of it...she lost her cool when I was keeping her and Throttle apart on the surface," Modo mused while tilting his head to the side.

Jax frowned in thought. "Do you think that...do you think that maybe, even in whatever state this is that she's in...do you think it's possible that she still recognizes Throttle as well...you know...hers?"

"One way to find out," Throttle said simply while starting for the door. "Sydney, open the door. I'm going in."

Stoker quickly moved to block Throttle's path. "You've seen first hand what Anya is capable of. Are you sure it's a wise decision to go in there?"

"I have to trust that she won't hurt me," Throttle said simply.

"That's not good enough for me," Stoker said with an underlying growl. "You're one of the best soldiers I've ever had under my command, and I'm not about to just stand by and let you go to Anya...not after seeing her handiwork in the hospital." He looked over to his wife. "Syd...do you have some kind of failsafe?"

"I've got a sedative loaded into the vents that feed into the chamber," Sydney said calmly. "If Anya attacks you, Throttle, all I would need to do is push a button and the chamber would be flooded with enough knock-out gas to knock out a baby elephant."

"There? See?" Throttle asked while looking to Stoker. "Now please, Coach...get out of my way and let me go to my wife," he said calmly.

"Syd, will they be able to hear us in there?" Stoker asked.

Sydney nodded. "Another button will open the comm link so Throttle can communicate with us and hear everything we say on this side of the glass."

Throttle stepped around Stoker and started for the door once more. "Open up, Sydney," he said simply once he reached the door.

"Okay...but be quick," Sydney said as she moved to the control panel beside her work station. "I don't want to risk her getting out." She pushed the button that controlled the door and kept the door open long enough for Throttle to slip in before she was pressing the button to close it again.

Standing against the door, Throttle held his arms up to show Anya that he meant her no harm. "Anya? Annie-girl, can you understand me? I'm not here to hurt you." He took care to keep his voice calm and even as he took a cautious step towards his wife. "Anya...my Annie-angel, I know you're in there somewhere." He took another step. "I know in my heart that the Anya I know and love with my entire soul...that my wife is still there inside of you." Another step.

Anya tilted her head back a little and sniffed the air, and those on the other side of the glass watched nervously as she smoothly closed the distance between Throttle and herself-Sydney's hand ever-hovering over the button that would fill the chamber with the sedative gas.

Throttle for his part remained motionless with his hands still raised as Anya proceeded to bury her nose in his fur and deeply breathe in his scent while tightly gripping his vest in her hands. "Anya?" He only lowered his hands and cautiously wrapped his arms around Anya when she began nuzzling his chest, shoulders and neck as a soft rumbling emerged from somwhere deep in her throat. "Anya...are you purring? Guys, are you hearing this?"

"I can't," Sydney said with a small shake of her head.

"We can," Stoker said while motioning to Vinnie, Rimfire, Modo and himself. "Then again, our hearing is better than that of an earthling," he said with a small shrug.

"Is she...scent-marking you?" Jax asked while tilting her head to the side.

"Well, she sure as hell didn't like it when Charley gave Throttle a hug," Vinnie said.

"That's right," Charley said with a nod. "Maybe on some level she still recognizes you as hers so she's remarking her territory?"

"Come to think of it...she didn't like it when I got between her and Throttle up on the surface either," Modo mused as he watched the enclosed pair like a hawk.

"This is good," Throttle said in a calm voice while slowly stroking Anya's hair as she nestled into him. "This is good."

"How is this good exactly?" Rimfire asked.

"Because if Anya recognizes me even in this state, then that means that the the real Anya hasn't been completely destroyed by Karbunkle's twisted experiments," Trottle replied in his still calm voice. "She's still in here somewhere...we just need to find a way to get her out." He softly cleared his throat. "Now, Emily...when you ran in here, you said you said you found something. What was it?"

"Right," Emily said with a nod while turning her attention back to the board that was now covered with Anya's various scans. "Okay...the X-rays and CT Scans on the left were taken when Anya was brought to the infirmary after her rescue from the Plutarkians. The ones on the right were taken after that freakout she had while she was still unconscious and in recovery," she said while motioning for the others to come closer. "Can anyone see the difference?"

"Charley, would you please come take my place over here with the tranq button?" Sydney asked. "I can't watch Anya and study her scans at the same time."

"Sure, no problem," Charley said with a nod as she took Sydney's place and kept a watchful eye on the now docile Anya who moved fluidly with Throttle as the Martian sat on the floor.

Sydney tilted her head to the side after a few moments of studying the X-rays. "That can't be right…"

"What?" Modo asked in obvious confusion.

"Yeah, I don't know what the heck I'm supposed to be looking at," Rimfire said.

"Sweetheart, remember...aside from you and Emily, we're not trained to see what you two see. All that stuff on the board is nothing but weird pictures to us," Stoker said gently. "You explain it to us like we're five."

"Okay, uh…Anya's vertebrae. Her spinal cord," Sydney clarified. "In her first series of scans, she like every other human had twelve thoratic vertebrae which start here at the base of the neck and go down to the middle of the back," she explained while pointing to the areas on the X-ray. "She also had five lumbar vertebrae which start here at the middle of the back and go down to the start of the coccyx…the tail bone. Also...her clavicle is closely attached by muscles and ligaments." She looked back and forth between Stoker and the others. "You guys with me so far?"

"This is how you explain things to a five year old?" Vinnie asked wryly before grunting softly when Stoker elbowed him in the side.

"We're with you," Stoker said simply.

Emily jumped in. "In the X-rays on the right, Anya now has thirteen thoratic vertebrae, seven lumbar vertebrae, and her clavicle is floating on its own without realy being connected to anything."

"So Throttle was right," Vinnie mused. "Anya did get taller."

"Okay, so how could that happen?" Charley asked. While her attention was still on Anya and Throttle, she had nevertheless been listening.

"Before you guys came in, Sydney said that Anya's double helixes had been altered," Throttle contributed while simply holding Anya close as she rested her head upon his shoulder and lightly kneaded his chest with her nails.

Sydney nodded. "Karbunkle swapped half of Anya's genetic code with something else."

"Okay...so what genetic coding would cause those changes to Anya's skeletal structure?" Stoker asked.

"Cat," Jax answered without a moment of hesitation. "What?" she asked upon suddenly being faced with bemused stares.

"How did you just randomly know that?" Rimfire asked.

"Before I discovered the wonderful world of computers, I wanted to be a veterinarian," Jax answered with a small shrug. "Cats have the extra vertebrae so they can twist their bodies and land on their feet no matter how they fall, and the floating clavicle is what allows them to get into such small spaces." She ever looked to Sydney, Charley and Emily. "You know those pictures of cats that used to be viral on the internet? The ones with them scrunched up and sleeping in seemingly impossible spaces?"

"Yeah...?" Charley replied questioningly.

"It's because of the floating clavicle," Jax answered. "Because it's not attached to anything, it makes it easier for cats to fit into any space. Basically, if the cat's head fits into the space, then it can get the rest of their body into it as well."

"So you're telling me that Karbunkle altered my wife with cat genetics?" Throttle asked incredulously. He had to work to keep his voice calm.

"That would explain the claws and the fangs," Vinnie mused before grunting when Modo elbowed him in the stomach.

Sydney sighed. "As farfetched as the idea might be, Throttle...we can't really argue with the evidence."

Stoker sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead. "Okay, well...would this change in Anya's genetics completely change her personality?"

"That's where her CT Scans come in," Emily answered while pointing to the images of Anya's brain. "See the difference between the two scans?"

"That part looks bigger in the second scan than in the first," Modo said after several moments of silent observation.

"Exactly," Emily said with a nod. "Her amygdala has been enlarged. the amygdala is the part of the human brain that regulates emotions and fear. It's a very old and sort of primal part of the brain. Our more prehistoric ancestors relied on it a lot more because they relied more on instinct than anything else. You see...the amygdala is also where the whole fight or flight response comes from."

Sydney nodded. "As a species, we've long since evolved from our ancestors because as time progressed over millenia and centuries, we've become less and less the hunter-gatherers living in a survival of the cutest environment, and have instead become more cognitive and intellectual." She sighed softly. "Though, that fight or flight instinct does still kick in, it's nowhere near to what it once was."

Throttle sighed. "So when you take someone like Anya who's all fight and no flight, and then proceed to enhance the part of the brain that regulates all the more primal instincts..."

"You get a perfect killer," Stoker finished. "Especially with the additional, physical changes made to her."

"Alright, well...there's no use dwelling on the problems," Throttle said while resting his head against Anya's as his tail draped over her lap. "Let's work on trying to find a solution so we can reverse what Karbunkle did to her."

Sydney nervously chewed her bottom lip and pensively averted her eyes.

Stoker drew close to his wife and gently rested a hand upon her shoulder. "Syd? Sweetheart, what is it? What's wrong?"

"That's just it," Sydney said softly. "Throttle...I honestly don't know if Anya's condition can be reversed."

"How can you say that?" Throttle asked tersely. "How can you just give up without trying anything first?"

Sydney made her way over to the glass cage. "Throttle...what you're asking to be done is extremely dangerous for Anya," she said earnestly. "Please...please would you just listen to me?" she asked when Throttle opened his mouth to protest. "Look...what Karbunkle did to her...it's a miracle that Anya didn't die from the sheer amount of stress that was put upon every single part of her body. Trying to reverse the process no doubt actually would kill her."

Throttle stared at Sydney. "So...what? I'm supposed to just sit by and do nothing while my wife goes through life like this? Sydney...there has to be something we can do."

"We'll think of something, sweetie," Charley soothed. "Between all of us putting our heads together, we'll think of something."

"In the meantime, why don't you come on out of there?" Modo suggested.

"No," Throttle said firmly with a shake of his head. "I'm not leaving my wife."

"C'mon, bro," Vinnie entreated. "You can seriously mean to stay in there…"

"I do," Throttle replied emphatically. "Anya is my wife and she needs me. I wil not turn my back on her just because we've hit a rough patch. I take my wedding vows seriously."

"Throttle...think about this," Stoker said calmly.

"I am," Throttle replied. "Maybe I can get through to Anya by staying in here with her. Maybe by being by her side twenty-four-seven I can snap her out of whatever fugue she's gotten herself into. Besides...it's clear that she's not going to hurt me." He gently tilted Anya's face up to his so he could gaze into her black eyes. "Seriously...what have I got to lose?"


	25. Chapter 25

Thank you everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter :) Just as a little FYI for those of you who are interested in the fantasy genre, I've recently published my novel, _Dragon Guardian: Fire_, and it is available for purchase on Amazon as well as on Kindle. So if you or anyone you know enjoy a good sword & sorcery adventure, be sure to check it out! :D

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters pertaining to BMFM...unfortunately. The character of Cassidy was created by my friend, **Lenadexil. **All other OCs belong to me :)

* * *

**Chapter 25**

* * *

_...Maverick quarters; three days later…_

"Why were Anya's eyes all black?" Modo asked as he sat on the edge of the bed and watched Emily dress.

"Pupil dilation is part of the fight or flight response," Emily answered with a small wave of her hand as she pulled her scrub top over her head before slipping her feet into her sneakers.

"Oh," Modo said simply as he averted his gaze the the floor. "So...what're the odds of fixing her?" he asked softly.

Emily paused in putting her hair into a ponytail and slowly let out a sigh as she moved over to the bed and sat beside her husband. "Honestly? I have no idea," she admitted. "Physically, there's nothing that can be done to undo the changes Karbunkle did to Anya's body. Mentally?" She sighed again. "I wouldn't know which drug would even begin to counteract what's going on in Anya's head. I mean...it's not exactly a chemical imbalance which is what drugs are designed to deal with."

"What about brain surgery?" Modo asked.

Emily gave a small shake of her head. "I know I'm only a nurse and not a doctor, but I personally think that opening up Anya's head and cutting into her brain after it's already been altered might do more harm than good."

"Damn it," Modo growled under his breath.

Emily rested a hand on her husband's knee. "I know...believe me, I know how much this sucks," she said softly. "After all the good Anya has done...for this to happen to her..."

"We can't give up," Modo said firmly. "Not just for Anya's sake, but for Throttle's."

Emily sighed softly. "Modo..."

"Emily...that Martian has only ever loved two women in his life," Modo said in a soft but firm voice. "One was murdered in front of him, and the other one has been turned into some feral super-killer. Now...you saw what a mess he was before he and Anya got together. Emily...if he loses her, it'll kill him."

Emily gave Modo's knee a small squeeze. "Modo, I promise that Sydney and I are going to do everything we can to come up with some kind of solution. You know we will." She lightly bit her bottom lip. "But you have to be prepared for the possibility that we can't find a way to fix Anya." Taking her hand from her husband's knee, Emily resumed putting her long, blond hair into a ponytail. "But until that moment comes, I'm going to everything I can to help Sydney come up with some kind of solution...even if it's only just a 'band-aide' until we come up with something more permanent."

"I believe in you, Emily," Modo said while pulling his wife onto his lap and holding her close.

"That means the world to me, you big lug," Emily murmured with a smile while sliding her arms around Modo's neck. "But if you're going to send positive energy to anyone, send it to Stoker. Lord only knows the kind of fallout he's dealing with right now."

"Yeah…" Modo said with a heavy sigh as he rested his head against Emily's. "It's not pretty. I've never seen him so exhausted before."

"We've all got our work cut out for us, Modo," Emily murmured with a tired sigh. "I can only hope that it will all pay off in the end."

* * *

_...Labs..._

"Remember the first time we ever met, Annie-angel?" Throttle asked softly. "Remember what a drunk mess I was? You pulled me out of that black hole when no one else could," he murmured.

Inside the glass cage, Throttle slowly traced his fingertips over Anya's cheek as he gazed into her black eyes. Sitting on the floor with his wife in his lap, the tan-furred Martian tried desperately to reach her as she rested her head upon his shoulder and purred contentedly at his closeness. Every so often, Throttle would touch his antennae to Anya's forehead in the hopes of finding some glimmer of recognition within her memories, or some sign that his wife, as he knew her, was fighting to come back to him.

And every time, Throttle was met with the same red haze.

"What about the time on the surface when you dislocated your shoulder coming to my rescue after I save you and your squad? Remember that, beautiful?" Throttle sighed softly. "You didn't turn your back on me...not once. Throttle murmured. "I'm sure as fuck not going to turn my back on you. You hear me, angel? I don't care what it takes. You're my wife...and I know that somewhere deep inside of you know that we belong to each other."

Anya nuzzled Throttle's jaw before giving it a light nip.

Throttle could not help the pleasured shiver that ran through him, and his arms tightened around Anya. "Please come back to me, Anya. I can't...I can't go through the rest of my life without you. I need you, Anya. Please come back. I know you're in there somewhere...I can feel it in my bones." He tenderly kissed his wife's forehead. "I know you're in there. Please...just give some kind of sign...some kind of hint as to how to help you. I'll do anything."

"Are you having any luck?" Sydney's voice asked from the other side of the glass.

Throttle looked over his shoulder to see the lithe brunette standing a safe distance away from the glass. After the violent way Anya had reacted to Charley hugging Throttle, it had been the general consensus of the group to have the Charley and the other girls keep their distance for the time being. Meals were delivered to the couple by male scientists through a small slot in the wall that could only be opened from the outside. There was also a hole the size of a baseball in the floor that served as a toilet. In attempts to try and give her friends some matter of privacy, Sydney had medial curtains positioned by Vinnie and Modo around the left side of the glass cage where the 'potty-hole' was located.

"Are you making any headway at all?" Sydney asked gently-her face filled with concern.

Throttle sighed and gave a small shake of his head. "No...none at all," he said in as calm a voice as he could muster while continuing in his stroking of Anya's hair. "She's still not talking...and every time I try to look into her mind, all I see is red. I can't find her." He took a steadying breath. "What about you? I know you hardly slept..."

Sydney gave a small shake of her head. "Throttle...we need to talk."

"I don't like the way you said that," Throttle replied.

Sydney sighed. "Throttle, I've been going over it in my mind all night...all the different drugs I've been experimenting with and combining...and this morning, I realized something."

"I'm guessing it's nothing good," Throttle muttered morosely.

Sydney sighed heavily. "I'd have no way of testing the drug, Throttle...no way of seeing if the drug I created would even be safe to use on a human being."

Throttle slowly shook his head in disbelief. "There has to be something that can be done, Sydney. We can't just leave her like this. I can't leave her like this."

Sydney bit her bottom lip. "Throttle...unless you can somehow delve into her mind and fix her, there's nothing I can do because I simply can't administer a drug to her without knowing if it will do more harm than actual good."

Throttle was silent for several moments. "Then it looks like I've got some digging to do," Throttle said while setting his jaw. "Syd, I'm going back into Anya's mind. Under no circumstances am I to be disturbed, okay? I'm not coming out of the mind-meld until I bring the real Anya back with me."

"Throttle...please just promise me you'll be careful," Sydney said nervously "You don't know how Anya will react with you poking around in her head for so long."

"She won't hurt me," Throttle answered simply before capturing Anya's lips in an earnest kiss. "I'm coming for you, Anya," he murmured against his wife's lips before touching his antenna to her forehead.

"How goes it, Syd?" Rimfire asked as he and Jax walked into the lab hand in hand.

"Sssshh…" Sydney hissed softly while raising a finger to her lips. "Throttle's doing that Martian mind-meld thingie to try and save Anya."

"He's been doing that for the past three days," Jax said worriedly as she watched the caged couple as they sat entangled in each other's arms.

"Yeah...but now it's our only option left," Sydney said softly.

"What do you mean?" Rimfire asked as he looked from the glass cage to Sydney. "What's wrong? I thought you were working your lab magic."

Sydney sighed heavily. "Even a wizard has her limits," she said softly before explaining her dilemma to the young couple.

"Okay, so you don't want to test some experimental drug on Anya right off the bat. I can understand that. So...why don't we just go find you a rat to test the drugs on?" Rimfire asked. "They're everywhere in the tunnels."

"Wouldn't work," Jax said with a shake of her head. "Their brains aren't compatible to a human's. We'd need a primate."

Sydney gave a small nod. "And even if we had a primate...I'd have no way of replicating in the chimp what Karbunkle did to Anya. That fact makes testing the drug on some 'guinea pig' completely moot."

"Shit…" Rimfire breathed while averting his eyes to the floor for a few moments. "I gotta tell the guys," he said once he had lifted his gaze.

"Don't tell Stoker yet," Sydney requested earnestly. "He's already got so much on his plate with all of this. I don't think he can take another helping of bad news."

Rimfire nodded. "Understood. Coming, Jax?"

"Nah, I'll stay here," Jax replied before kissing her husband's lips. "I love you."

"I love you too," Rimfire said with a small but earnest smile before turning on his heel and striding from the lab.

Sighing, Jax gave Sydney's shoulder a squeeze. "How long has it been since you've eaten?" At the older woman's hesitation, the computer genius sighed again. "If you have to think about it, it's been too long. I'll go get you something, okay?"

Giving a small nod, Sydney sighed softly. "Thanks. I guess I'll just keep Throttle company from a distance until you get back."

* * *

_...Infirmary..._

"Um...excuse me, Emily?"

Having ducked into the infirmary so she could grab some extra hand sanitizer to take to Sydney's lab, Emily was just on her way back out when she heard her name. Turning on her heel, she looked down a little to find herself face to face with a young nurse in blue scrubs who always seemed happy and energetic no matter how chaotic things became. "What's up, Cassidy?"

"Um...I was just wondering if…" Cassidy nervously shuffled her feet and swung her brown ponytail over her shoulder. "Could I possibly be moved to another patient? A human patient?"

Emily blinked then crossed her arms over her chest. "Got a problem with Martians, Cassidy? I hardly think this is the time and place for racist attitudes."

Cassidy blinked before her sapphire eyes widened, and she hurriedly shook her head. "Oh, no, no, no, it's nothing like that. That's not what I meant at all, I swear. It's just…" A soft pink blush rose into her creamy cheeks.

"Okay, Cassidy? I'm in a bit of a rush here, so could you please just spit it out?" Emily asked while trying to remain patient in the face of her current level of stress.

"I'm afraid of mice," Cassidy answered in a whisper as her blush deepened. "Like...really afraid of mice."

Emily blinked and her jaw dropped just a little in shock. "Come again?"

"I'm really afraid of mice," Cassidy repeated as her alabaster skin now resembled that of a tomato. "Have been since I was a little girl."

"Uh, huh…" Emily said while tilting her head to the side. "And you've managed this long in a war where we're fighting side by side with Martian mice how?"

Cassidy sighed. "I've always managed to find another nurse to trade with me when I found myself assigned to a Martian during my shift. But since we're so slammed and crazy today, I can't find anyone who's willing to switch with me. I was hoping that maybe you could help me encourage someone to make the change?"

Emily sighed. "I'm sorry, Cassidy. I feel for you, but you said it yourself we're slammed today, and I do not hear about Martian patients getting worse or even dying because you were too skittish to check his vitals, incisions, or change his catheter. So, put on your big-girl pants and go do your job," she said firmly before turning on her heel and hurrying from the infirmary.

Now alone, Cassidy stood rooted to her spot for several moments before she was jostled from her thoughts by several nurses as they hurried past her. Sighing, she slowly turned on her heel and made her way to the other side of the infirmary with slow, deliberate steps. Her heart slammed in her chest like a sledgehammer as each step brought her closer to her patient, and when she finally reached the black-furred Martian with the abdominal wound, she averted her gaze while softly clearing her throat. "My...my name is Cassidy. I'm going to be taking care of you today. How...how are we feeling today?" she asked while trying to keep the tremble out of her voice.

Having been lightly dozing, Pluto opened his eyes and turned his head in the direction of the feminine voice. "Nice to meet you, Cassidy...I'm Pluto. I'm okay, I guess," he answered tiredly. "Can't really feel much on my stomach."

Still not looking at her patient, Cassidy reached for the clipboard at the foot of his bed. "That's on account of your nerve-endings being severed from your wound as well as the surgery needed to repair the damage," she said after reading the clipboard. "You'll be numb around your incision for a good while even after you've been discharged from here." She softly cleared her throat and firmly kept her gaze averted while hooking the clipboard back on the foot of the bed. "I'm just going to check your incision, if that's okay?"

"Sure. Do what you gotta do," Pluto answered while watching Cassidy curiously. The fact that she had not once made eye contact with him was not lost on him. "So...how's your day going?"

"As good as can be expected considering the circumstances," Cassidy answered softly while trying to keep her hands from trembling as they drew closer to the bandage covering Pluto's incision. Her fear mounted at the prospect of touching the Martian, and she kept her gaze fixed upon the incision as she slowly lifted the bandages in order to separate herself someone from the giant, bed-ridden mouse. "The incision looks a little red around the edges where the staples are," she said upon examining the shaved area of Pluto's very sculpted stomach. "But there's no puss or smell of infection, so I wouldn't worry about it," she added softly while slowly putting the bandages back into place with shaking hands.

"Everything okay?" Pluto asked with concern as he reached out and lightly touched Cassidy's hand. "You're-" He hurriedly drew back his hand when Cassidy squeaked in fright and recoiled from him. What the...what just happened here?" Watching as Cassidy shivered in revulsion, Pluto sighed. "I get it...you hate Martians."

"What?" Cassidy's eyes widened and she forced herself to look Pluto in the face so he could see her earnestness. "No, that's not it at all. Believe me...I have nothing but the highest respect for you guys. I mean...you're helping us in this war. You could've just as easily have left us to fight this war alone, but you're not."

At the sight of Cassidy's large, sapphire eyes framed by long, dark lashes, Pluto had to remind himself to breathe. He had always loved it when a girl had dark hair and blue eyes. Even back on Mars when he first became interested in girls, he had thought the stark difference between the two colors was a particularly striking-more so since it was rare among Martian females.

Pluto softly cleared his throat. "Then...why did you pull your hand away like I was on fire?"

The deep crimson returned to Cassidy's cheeks and she averted her eyes while shuffling her feet. "I'm terrified of mice," she whispered.

Pluto blinked in surprise. This had been the last thing he had expected to hear, and he masked his disappointment with a soft chuckle. "Well...that sucks."

"It's nothing personal against you or any other Martian," Cassidy said hurriedly. "It's just...when I was a little girl away at summer camp, the bully in my cabin liked to pick on me because I was so small for my age. Well, one night while I was sleeping, she dumped a bucket of wild mice into my bed." She shivered violently and wrapped her arms tightly around herself to chase away the memory. "The feel of all those little feet, tails, whiskers, claws…those squirming bodies just seemed to get everywhere...I've been terrified of any member of the rodent family since then. Rats, hamsters, guinea pigs...you name it."

Pluto sighed. "Well…this war must doubly suck for you. I've never raised a hand to a female in my whole life, but I hope that girl got a good punch in the nose. What a bitch."

Cassidy could not help but smile. "That's sweet of you to say," she said softly while carefully adjusting Pluto's blanket.

Again, Pluto masked his disappointment and mild hurt with a soft chuckle. "I guess that explains why I never saw you at any of the mixers."

"Yeah..." Cassidy replied with a sheepish smile.

"Just as well, I guess," Pluto said after offering Cassidy a small smile. "Pretty little thing like you? It wouldn't have taken long for a crowd of Martians to swarm you. That wouldn't have been fun for you."

Cassidy sighed softly and gathered her nerve. "I promise I won't let my fears interfere with your recovery so long as I'm your nurse. At least, I'll try really hard to keep them in check," she said with a small smile. "Just please know it's nothing against you personally if I happen to get a case of the shakes."

"I'll just pretend it's your reaction to my blinding good looks," Pluto said with a wry grin.

It was a relaxed smile that spread over Cassidy's face then, and she giggled softly. "You know...as far as mice go, you're not so bad."

Pluto's smile grew just a bit. "Coming from you, I'll take that as a huge compliment."

* * *

_...Labs; several hours later..._

Throttle had no idea how long his mind had been joined with Anya's. For all he knew, it had been days, but true to his word, Throttle had not once broken contact.

"Anya!" he cried in the red haze as he pushed his way forward. "Anya, can you hear me?" As with every other time he called out for his wife, Throttle's voice echoed and seemed to mock him. "Anya, answer me! I know you're here somewhere. Tell me where you are! Tell me how I can help you! Anya!"

As with every other time, Throttle was met with silence.

Then...

"Get away from me! Let me go!"

Throttle's head snapped to the left. While the voice was unmistakably Anya's, it sounded so very far away. He felt his heart racing in his physical body as he pushed forward. "ANYA!" he bellowed as he pushed through the thick, red fog.

"Throttle? Is that really you?"

"Yes, angel it's me! Keep talking! Keep talking so I can find you!"

"NO!" Anya screamed. "No, Throttle! Stay away!"

"I'm not leaving you!" Throttle shouted as he followed the sound of Anya's voice. "I'm bringing you back with me! I'm bringing you home!" he stopped in his tracks when a furious roar rumbled through the space. "ANYA!" He took off at a dead sprint.

"Throttle, stay away! Stay away or it'll get you too!" Anya screamed.

Throttle finally pushed through the red haze and was forced to stop in his tracks in slack-jawed shock as he came face to face with the sight of Anya pinned to the ground by a massive, monster of a cat. "Gods..."

Anya's head snapped in the direction of Throttle's voice in the midst of her pushing against the cat's belly with her feet as her hands pushed against the massive muzzle. "Throttle! You stubborn fool! What're you doing? I told you to get out of here!"

"The only way I'm leaving is if you're with me," Throttle growled before rushing forward and punching the cat in the temple…

Only to have his fist go right through it.

He blinked. "What the…?" Then realization hit him. "It's not real. Anya, listen to me. It's not real. The cat is not real!"

"What're you talking about?" Anya turned her head to avoid the massive, snapping jaws before punching the cat as hard as she could in the temple.

"I'll explain later!" Throttle crouched beside Anya and locked gazes with her while speaking in a calm voice now for his wife's benefit. "Now, Anya I need to to listen to me. Hear what I'm saying and believe me when I say that this cat is not real. It's only real to you because you're making it real. It can't hurt you unless you let it."

"I don't understand!" Anya cried frantically.

"You don't have to right now," Throttle replied calmly. "Just trust me. Know that I love you more than my own life and that I would never lie to you or knowingly put you in danger."

Anya looked up at her husband with desperation-filled eyes as tears streamed down her cheeks. "Throttle…!" The cat began closing its massive jaws over her throat.

"Anya, trust me," Throttle said with a still calm voice. "Trust me, Annie-angel."

After several moments, Anya slowly nodded. "I trust you," she whispered before closing her eyes and allowing herself to become limp beneath the massive cat which vanished moments later Feeling the familiar, sculpted arms of her husband wrapping around her, she threw her arms around him and clung to his strong body. "Throttle!" she sobbed into her husband's neck.

"I'm here, " Throttle soothed while holding Anya close and rubbing her back gently. "Come on, angel...let's go home."

* * *

On the other side of the glass, Modo, Vinnie and Rimfire paced uneasily back and forth as they watched Throttle and Anya's unmoving bodies. Charley, Jax and Emily stood in a group with Sydney and alternated between watching the three Martians and watching the caged couple.

"I don't like this," Modo said as his tail swished in agitation. "He's been in there too long. I've never heard of a meld taking this long before."

"What do we do?" Vinnie asked the grey giant uncertainly. "Do we risk going in there and snapping him out of it?"

"Throttle told me not to interrupt him," Sydney said softly as she nervously watched the intertwined couple. "He said he was going to stay in Anya's mind until he brought her back."

Before Modo could respond, his attention was drawn to the cage at the sound of two joint gasps from the inside. He, Vinnie and RImfire raced to the nearest glass wall and all but pressed against it as they watched Throttle and Anya simply stare at each other for several moments before the latter threw her arms around the former and clung to him while sobbing into his shoulder. The gentle giant let out the breath he had been holding and smiled down at Vinnie when the white-furred Martian clapped him on the shoulder. "He did it...the crazy bastard did it."


	26. Chapter 26

Thank you everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter :) Just as a little FYI for those of you who are interested in the fantasy genre, I've recently published my novel, _Dragon Guardian: Fire_, and it is available for purchase on Amazon as well as on Kindle. So if you or anyone you know enjoys a good sword & sorcery adventure, be sure to check it out! :D

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of the cannon characters pertaining to BMFM...unfortunately. The character of Cassidy was created by my friend, **Lenadexil. **All other OCs belong to me :)

* * *

**Chapter 26**

* * *

_"Will I lose my dignity?  
__Will someone care?  
__Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?"_

_-'Will I' _from Rent

"When can we go home?" Anya asked Throttle as she sat on a stool at one of the lab stations while Emily checked her eyes and vitals.

"Eyes are completely back to normal," Emily said while stepping back.

"Why are you all looking at me like that?" Anya asked. "And by the way, can anyone tell me why I woke up in a glass box here in the lab?"

"You don't remember anything?" Charley asked cautiously.

"Remember what?" Anya asked before looking to Throttle. "Baby, what's going on?"

"Nothing good."

All heads turned to the doorway to see Stoker approaching.

"Our fellow Martians are more understanding of Anya's behavior since they know what kind if twisted bastard, but the humans on the base? They want Anya's blood."

"What?" Anya jumped to her feet. "Why? What'd I do?" she asked with wide eyes as she looked back and forth between her friends.

Stoker blinked and tilted his head to the side a little as he regarded Anya. "What's that last thing you remember?"

"Leaving your office this afternoon after you denied my request to return to active duty," Anya replied. "What?" she asked upon watching Stoker exchange glances with the others.

Stoker slowly breathed a heavy sigh. "Anya, that was three days ago.

Anya took a shaky step back. "That can't be right," she whispered. "My blackouts never last that long."

"This one did," Stoker replied. "And you went completely amok. You killed two people and landed twenty more in the infirmary."

Anya's knees buckled, and she would have fallen if Throttle had not caught her and helped her back onto the stool upon which she had previously been sitting. Her eyes were wide as she stared at Stoker. "I...I killed someone?" she asked in a frightened whisper. "Two someones?"

"It wasn't you, Anya," Throttle soothed while smoothing his wife's hair. "It wasn't the real you. It's all because of what Karbunkle did to you...which is a lot."

"How do you know what he did to me?" Anya asked in a whisper as her eyes became fixed on the floor. "I don't even know what he did..."

"We conducted tests while you were unconscious and compared all your scans," Sydney answered. "The simple answer is that Karbunkle completely changed your genetic makeup."

Jax nodded and took a step forward. "You're like a human-cat hybrid," she explained. "Your skeleton has been altered so it's more like a cat, you've got fangs-"

"I do not have fangs," Anya protested before wincing. "Ow...I just bit my tongue..." Her voice drifted off when her tongue brushed against her canines and found them to be much longer. "God almighty...I've got fangs." she paused in clenching her hands into fists when she saw her nails lengthen. "Shit...!" she whispered.

Throttle wrapped an arm around Anya's shoulders. "It's going to be okay," he murmured softly.

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one who's been turned into a freak," Anya snapped before sniffling and leaning into Throttle for some measure of comfort and support.

"We'll figure this out, Annie-girl," Throttle murmured while wrapping his other arm around Anya.

"What's there to figure out?" Anya asked morosely. "I'm a ticking time-bomb. I have no idea what set me off, which means that I have no way of keeping it from happening again."

"But Throttle brought you back," Rimfire said with a hopeful smile. "That must mean there's a chance to help you."

Anya blinked and turned her gaze to the younger Martian. "Brought me back?" She returned her gaze to her husband. "Throttle, what's he talking about?"

"When you were fighting the cat," Throttle explained.

Anya stared at Throttle silently for a few moments. "You mean..." She blinked. "Wait a second...are you tellin' me that was real? It wasn't some nightmare? That was really you in my head?"

"It was really me," Throttle answered with a nod. "And believe me when I say that it wasn't easy to find you, angel. Whatever thrall you were under...it had the real you buried so deep inside your own head." He sighed softly. "Until you finally took control and stopped letting it run its rampage."

"Is that what that giant cat was?" Anya asked softly after several moments of silence.

"I think so," Throttle answered softly with a small nod.

"What is this giant cat you two are talking about?" Stoker asked.

Throttle looked to his mentor. "When I went and found Anya so I could bring her back, she was fighting this giant monster of a cat."

"It had me pinned…" Anya said softly as she stared blankly off into the distance. "It was going to rip my throat out..."

Charley softly cleared her throat. "At the risk of sounding crazy, it sounds to me like you…the _real_ you was fighting the feral, killer version of you on a subconscious level."

"Yeah…and a fat load of good it did," Anya replied. "I blacked out for three days and went completely amok." She pulled away from Throttle and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yes, but you won," Throttle soothed. "You beat it."

"For _now_," Anya said softly. "And only because _you_ were there to help me."

Throttle shook his head and gently turned Anya's body on the stool so she was facing him. "No, that's where you're wrong," he said while placing his hands upon his wife's shoulders and giving them a squeeze. "You beat that thing because you're strong. You don't believe me? You were fighting that giant cat for three days. A lesser person would've succumbed and let that beast takeover completely right from the start. But not _you_…not _you_, my warrior-woman. You were too strong to let it take you completely."

"That still doesn't change what I did," Anya whispered. "I killed two of our own and landed twenty more in the infirmary. I'm a monster."

"You are not a monster," Throttle said firmly.

Stoker softly cleared his throat at last after having simply listening to the exchange. "If I may…it could've been a lot worse. You only killed two of our own…you could've just as easily have killed the other twenty, but you didn't." He slowly let out a breath. "Now, I believe there is merit to what Throttle said. I believe that on _some_ subconscious level you knew what was happening…what you were being forced to do, and you _made_ yourself go to the surface so no more innocent blood would be spilled."

Modo nodded and took a step forward. "You went after Plutarkians once you were on the surface. You left Martians and humans alone, and you went after the ones responsible for what happened to you."

"See?" Throttle asked while tucking a strand of hair behind his wife's ear. "You're not a monster, Anya, and I swear we will fix this. We will find a way to make you like you once were."

"I already know how to fix this," Anya said simply while pulling away from Throttle and standing so she could close the distance between Stoker and herself. "Take me away," she said while holding her wrists out. "Exile me to the surface."

"No!" was the unanimous cry of protest from the others as Stoker simply stared at Anya bemusedly.

"Anya, no," Throttle said emphatically as he strode to Anya's side and firmly gripped her arm. "I'm not letting you do this."

"Throttle, there's no other choice," Anya said evenly as a lone tear rolled down her cheek. "Throttle…I don't know what set me off three days ago, or any other time before that when I had my other blackouts. I don't know what will set me off again." She wiped away a second tear that fell. "It's not safe to keep me around."

"You don't know that," Throttle said as he turned Anya so she was facing him fully.

"Yeah, Anya," Vinnie said from beside Charley. "You don't know that."

"Don't I?" Anya asked simply.

"You beat your darker side before," Modo added.

Anya sighed softly and hung her head a little. "Because Throttle was there to pull me out. What happens next time when he's not? What if he's on duty on the surface when another blackout happens and my darker self takes control? Throttle can't be with me every second of every day like some nursemaid. At least on the surface, if I lose control again then I channel my violent tendencies into something productive like killing Plutarkians."

"Alright, then I'm coming with you," Throttle said simply.

"No you're not," Anya said with a shake of her head.

"Yes, I _am_," Throttle said firmly while tightening his grip upon Anya's arms just a little. "You're my _wife_, Anya. Wherever _you_ go, _I_ go."

Anya set her jaw and narrowed her eyes just a bit while squaring her shoulders. "Fine…then I want a divorce."

"You can't have one," Throttle said simply. "My people don't believe in divorce."

"Well _mine_ do!" Anya snapped while freeing herself from her husband's grasp.

Not about to let Anya go so easily, Throttle grabbed a hold of her wrists. "Tough shit," he growled. "You're stuck with me."

"Throttle you stupid, stubborn…" Anya freed her hands before throwing them up in frustration and snarling as she turned on her heel, took a step and then turned to face her husband again. "Can't you see that I'm trying to protect you?" A tear rolled down her cheek, and her entire body trembled. "Throttle…if anything were to happen to you because of…if I were to hurt you in _any_ way…" She covered her face with her hands as she sobbed and all but melted into her husband when he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. "I'd never forgive myself."

Throttle cradled Anya against him and buried his face in her hair for several moments as he simply held her tightly—as though afraid that she would suddenly run from him. "You wouldn't hurt me," he murmured after a few moments. "You want to know how I know that? It's because I was in that cage with you for three days, and never _once_ tried to hurt me even though you had plenty of opportunities. On some level, you knew who I was…what I am to you."

Anya raised her gaze to her husbands. "What if that doesn't always hold true?" she asked in a whisper. "What if the next time my darker self rears its ugly head…what if next time I'm not able to fight it? What if it takes over completely…and I no longer recognize you?" She slid her hands up and lovingly cupped Throttle's face in her palms. "Please Throttle…_please_, you have to let me go."

Throttle gave a small shake of his head. "Never," he murmured while lovingly kissing away his wife's tears. "Never." He captured Anya's lips in a long, tender kiss.

Stoker cleared his throat. "Not to interrupt this tender moment, but we need to think of something."

"Well, whatever it is, we're doing it together," Charley said.

Regaining control of herself, Anya sighed once the kiss ended and turned her gaze towards Stoker. "You said it yourself...the humans are out for blood. You can't protect me, Stoker. I won't put you in that position. Send me to the surface...and make a public display out of it."

Stoker sighed and put his hands on his hips. "Anya..."

"Hear me out," Anya said while holding up a hand. "It'll put me in a position to take out Plutarkians vigilante-style while getting me out of your hair so you don't have a massive revolt on your hands. It'll kill two birds with one stone."

"I'm going with you," Throttle said firmly. "And I don't want to hear another word about it." He smoothed Anya's hair. "Besides...you'll have a better chance of surviving with someone watching your back."

"There has to be some other way," Rimfire protested.

"There isn't," Anya said softly. "Not until Sydney comes up with some permanent fix."

"Or until you learn how to control your darker self and use it to your advantage," Jax ventured.

"If such a thing is possible...the surface would be as good a place as any to work on it," Charley mused.

"I don't like it," Modo growled while crossing his arms over his chest. "The two of you on the surface without any backup...I don't like it."

"It's not up to you to like it, Modo," Anya said softly while stepping out of Throttle's embrace so she could slip a hand into his. "Besides...we'll be each other's backup."

"Stoker, you can't let this happen," Sydney entreated as she approached her husband. "Anya had no control over what she did. She can't be punished for that."

Stoker sighed heavily and hung his head before straightening. "Anya's right...there is no other way. I have been trying to explain the situation for the past three days...that's three days of trying to appeal to the sympathies of all who live on this base. The Martians are willing to look the other way, but the humans are not. To them Anya is a threat that must be dealt with...and as much as I hate it, I have to deal with her in order to keep a riot from breaking out."

"Well you can't just send them out there without anything," Emily protested.

"I won't be," Stoker assured. "They'll have their bikes, blasters, communicators, and enough water and rations to last them the next few days until Modo, Vinnie and Rimfire can come up with a system of getting supplies to them." He fixed his gaze upon Anya and Throttle. "If the two of you find yourself up against the ropes, you contact me on my private channel, and I will get word to Vinnie and Modo to go help you. Do you understand me? The two of you might be up there by yourselves, but you're not alone."

Anya gave Stoker a small nod as a single tear rolled down her cheek. "Thank you," she murmured with a small smile.

Stoker closed the distance between the pair and himself before resting a hand upon Anya's shoulder. "You're one of us, Anya. We take care of our own." He looked to Rimfire. "Go make sure their bikes are ready and loaded with what they'll need, and then stash them outside the garage so Throttle and Anya will have access to them once they've been booted out...and whatever you do, do not breathe a word of our plan to anyone outside this room."

Rimfire nodded. "Understood, Coach."

* * *

_...Infirmary; two hours later.._.

Pluto looked down the length of the infirmary to the door where he could hear a commotion taking place and he furrowed his brow in confusion. Upon seeing Cassidy approaching to check in on him, he softly cleared his throat. "What's going on out there, blue eyes?" he asked.

Cassidy smiled shyly as she checked Pluto's IV. "Stoker is exiling two people to the surface," she answered. "Everything looks good here. Now, the doctor said he wanted your catheter taken out today, so...do I have your permission to work 'down there' or would you rather I got one of the male nurses to do it?"

Pluto's smile was easy. "Knock yourself out, blue eyes. I'm not shy. Please excuse my language, but it's gonna be really nice to not pee in a bag," he said with a soft chuckle.

This was not the first catheter Cassidy had ever removed from a patient, or the first time a male patient had flirted with her while she did it. But there was something about Pluto's relaxed demeanor and smile that caused the softest of blushes to color her cheeks as a soft giggle escaped her. "Yeah, well...not peeing into a bag means you'll have to actually get up and go to the bathroom. While it's necessary to get you up and moving to keep your muscles from atrophying, I'm not going to lie to you...it's going to be painful. Getting up and moving, I mean."

Cassidy lifted the sheet and could not stop her eyes from widening. Even flaccid, Pluto was impressive. Were _all_ Martians endowed like this? Then there was the fact that Pluto's member looked exactly like a human's…nothing remotely alien about it. Cassidy had not been expecting that. She softly cleared her throat to snap herself out of her reverie when she realized she was staring.

While he could not help but grin just a bit at the fact that the lovely nurse had been staring, Pluto nevertheless cleared his own throat and sought to put Cassidy more at ease by changing the subject. "So...who's getting the boot?"

"You're going to feel a slight pinch," Cassidy warned as she carefully removed the catheter. "Throttle and Anya Thorneboy."

"What?" Pluto sat bolt upright and immediately regretted it-wincing and groaning in pain as he pressed a hand to his bandaged middle.

Cassidy's eyes widened, and for a moment her fear did not matter. "Please, don't move like that. You could tear your stitches," she reprimanded while gently easing Pluto back down onto the bed. The Martian's fur was soft, and Cassidy was pleasantly surprised when the feel of it did not make her think of that night at summer camp. "Wait a minute…isn't Anya the one who landed you and a lot of other people in here the other day?" she asked while drawing her hands away.

"Yes, but you don't understand…" Pluto protested through his grimace of discomfort as his wound burned and throbbed.

"I understand that she's dangerous," Cassidy answered simply. "One woman doing all that damage on her own? It's better that she's not around, if you ask me."

Pluto opened his eyes and looked Cassidy squarely in the eye. "No, Cassidy…you don't understand. She shouldn't be punished for what she did. It wasn't her fault."

Cassidy raised an eyebrow. "Do you two have some kind of abusive relationship going on somewhere on the side?"

Pluto sighed. "You don't understand. Anya was taken prisoner by the Plutarkians, and while she was in their custody she was experimented upon by Karbunkle.

"Who's Karbunkle?" Cassidy asked.

"Sadistic psychopath? Raging sociopath? Self-proclaimed genius, mad scientist? Take your pick," Pluto answered with a growl. "To _my_ people, he's the worst possible monster you could ever imagine. He would experiment on prisoners just to hear their screams…to see how much his victims could take before their bodies finally gave up and died. He didn't care if they were male, female…or even children." He clenched a hand into a fist. "I lost my little brother to that son of a bitch." His body quaked with rage. "When I found him after…his body was so mutilated that I could only identify him by the birthmark he had on the inside of his ear."

Cassidy's eyes were wide, and in that moment, she did not see a giant mouse but a man in pain. "Oh, Pluto…I'm so sorry," she murmured while sitting on the edge of the bed.

"When I think of what my brother went through…the pain…the fear…" Pluto bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes. "And to experience all of that alone…"

Cassidy gently took one of Pluto's large hands in both her smaller ones and gave it a small squeeze. "I'm sorry, Pluto…" she murmured softly. "That must've been truly awful for you."

"It was," Pluto answered softly. "I promised our mother that I would look after him…and I failed. I failed them both." Clearing his throat, he gradually regained his composure. "Anya might not _look_ the worse for wear…but trust me, Karbunkle seriously fucked with her." His mind flashed to the day of his attack—how vicious and animalistic Anya had been. "And now she's being punished for something she had no control over."

Cassidy smiled softly. "I'm amazed that you're able to show such mercy in light of your current situation. Not many humans I know would be…" Realizing that she was still holding Pluto's hand, she slowly let go of it.

"That's the difference between humans and Martians," Pluto said with a sigh. "My people have experienced Karbunkle's evil in one way or another…your people haven't." His eyes were gentle now as they looked to Cassidy. "I really hope that _you_ never experience that twisted kind of evil." He looked again to the door as the commotion grew in volume before finally fading as the crowd moved away from the door. "This is wrong…" he said with a shake of his head. "Even when he's not here, that sick bastard makes people suffer."

Cassidy offered Pluto a small smile. "Don't worry…he'll get what's coming to him."

Pluto gave the smallest of snorts while giving Cassidy a soft smirk. "I'm not going to hold my breath, blue eyes…but it's a nice thing to fantasize about."

* * *

_...Surface..._

"You sure about this?" Anya asked as she and Throttle carefully picked their way to where Rimfire had stashed Lady and Valkyrie. "It's _me_ the humans rallied against…not _you_. _You_ can still turn around and go back. It's not too late for you."

Though Throttle did not stop walking, his hand nevertheless found Anya's and he squeezed it gently after intertwining their fingers. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be than by your side, Annie-angel." He raised his wife's hand to his mouth and brushed a kiss to her knuckles. "So long as we're together, it doesn't matter to me where we are."

Finding their bikes hidden behind a pile of rubble, Anya drew to a halt so she could slide her arms around Throttle's neck and kiss him fervently while pressing her body against his. "I'm the luckiest woman in the galaxy," she whispered against her husband's lips. "I'm the luckiest woman in the galaxy because I have _you_."

Throttle wrapped his arms and tail tightly around Anya and held her close before claiming her soft lips in another kiss. "You will _always_ have me," he murmured emphatically. "I'll be with you until the very end." He kissed Anya's forehead before slowly drawing away and helping his wife onto her bike. "Now come on," he said while mounting Lady and putting on his helmet. "Let's go find some shelter." He revved Lady to life.

Anya put on her helmet and then revved Valkyrie to life. "Lead the way, Throttle my husband. I'll follow you to the ends of the earth."


End file.
